BV 

i5qo 

.86 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap. Copyright No. 

Shelf__B_A// i 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Sunday Afternoons 
for the children 



A Mother Book 



BY 

>*£^TRANCES SOULE 



NEW YORK 

FORDS, HOWARD, & HULBERT 

1900 



1 



,56 

TWO COPIES rtECElVED, 

Library of Congress^ 
Office of the 

FES 

Register of Copyrights 



J6 

Copyright in 1900, 
By FORDS, HOWARD, & HULBERT. 



StCOND COPY. 



to 

Kb 



NOTE. 

The author desires to acknowledge with 
thanks the courteous permission granted 
by the publishers and owners of copyright, 
for the use of the following hymns and 
poems : " Out in the Meadows," The Oliver 
Ditson Company; " A Wonderful Tree," 
by Mrs. M. N. Meigs; and " O, Ring, Glad 
Bells," Messrs. W. A. Pond & Co. ; " O 
Little Town of Bethlehem," by Phillips 
Brooks ; " The Star of Bethlehem," by E. 
Nesbit; also portions of three of Frances 
Ridley Havergal's poems, Messrs. E. P. 
Dutton & Co. 

3 



d&otberboofc, 

" A soft white nest in a shadowy room, 
A tiny form 'mid the pillows curled, 
A woman still in her youthful bloom, — 
This is the mother, and that her world. 

"Two blue eyes that begin to unclose 
Under the light of her tender smile, 
As the sunshine opens the heart of a rose. 
Does the mother envy a king the while ? 

4 



Contents, 

PAGE 

Prelude n 

I, Blocks 23 

II. Drawing 25 

III. Painting Scripture Texts 27 

IV. Sewing-cards 29 

V. Book-marks 32 

VI. Sand-box 35 

VII. Flowers 43 

VIII. A Bible Book 49 

IX. Bible Study — Research 60 

X. Bible Questions 70 

XI. Letters 72 

XII. Question-box 74 

XIII. Christmas 75 

XIV. The King's Little Ones 8i 

XV. Music in the Home 91 

XVI. Twilight Talks 103 

5 



Contents, 

PAGE 

XVII. Hymns and Poems for the Little 

Ones 125 

The Baby. — George Macdonald 125 

Only a Baby Small. — Matthias Baer. 126 

Morning Hymn. — Rebecca J. Weston. 127 

God's Care. — Author Unknown 127 

Careful Gardener. — Mrs. Cushing. . . 128 

A Prayer. — Mrs. B. M. Edwards.. . . 129 
The Child and the Star.— Author 

Unknown 129 

The New Moon. — Mrs. Follen 130 

Evening Hymn. — Author Unknown.. 131 
Out in the Meadows. — Author Un- 
known 132 

At Easter Time. — Laura E. Richards. 133 
The First Christmas. — Emilie Fouls- 

son 134 

O, Ring, Glad Bells 134 

A Gift.— Emilie Poulsson 135 

My Ain Countree. 136 

A Wonderful Tree.— Mrs. M. N. 

Meigs 137 

O Little Town of Bethlehem.— Phil- 
lips Brooks 139 

The Star of Bethlehem.— .£. Nesbit.. 140 
A Christmas Message. — Lilian Whit- 
ing 144 

Christ and the Little Ones 145 

The Moonlight Sonata. — F. R. 

Havergal 148 



" The best of a book is not the thought 

which it contains, but the thought which it 

suggests. Just as the charm of music dwells 

not in the tones but in the echoes of our 

hearts." 

7 



Iprelufce, 

A great man once remarked: " The law 
of the Sabbath is the keystone of the arch 
of public morals: take it away, and the 
whole fabric falls." 

How true this statement! In all history 
we find that the nations which have kept 
a weekly Sabbath have ultimately been 
prospered and blessed. Back of the nation 
lie the government, the educational forces, 
and, at the root of all, the individual home. 

There is an old saying - , " The hand that 

rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the 

world," and we find the gentle mother-hand 

usually in motion. Mothers are the chief 

educators of the race. Froebel said : " The 

nursery was my university." It is no light 

ii 



j 2 IpreluDe. 

responsibility, that of the mother, and 
grave questions present themselves to each 
mother-heart as she slowly recognizes the 
threefold nature of the child committed to 
her care. She also realizes that the in- 
fluence she exerts will be the pervading at- 
mosphere of the child's environment. She 
must herself be what she desires her child 
to become. 

Gradually, from the physical needs the 
moral and spiritual nature opens, so in- 
volved in the lower nature as to bring all 
the powers of motherhood into deepest 
thought and action. The mother will better 
understand her child if the memories of her 
own childhood have been kept clear, with 
its light and shadow, of joy or sadness : best 
of all, her remembered realization of the 
child-heart, that in great souls has ever 
shone through all their lives. If special 
text were needed for our subject, where 



fl>reluDe. 13 

more fittingly could we find it than among 
the treasured words of our own dear poet 
Longfellow, the true lover of little children, 
who said: " Sunday is the golden clasp that 
binds together the volume of the week "? 
No man more fully realized that the pur- 
pose of education is character; that the 
Sabbath, standing for one seventh of the 
child-development, should be made a day of 
unbounded pleasantness and joy, the clasp 
of gold that should indeed bind together 
the other six days into a volume to be treas- 
ured through all the after-years. 

To every true, spiritually -minded mother 
comes sooner or later this absorbing ques- 
tion: How can I make Sunday afternoons 
pleasant and enjoyable for my children, yet 
inculcate in their hearts that loving rever- 
ence for the day that I long to see them 
manifest ? 

The thoughtful observe with real pain the 



i4 delude. 

growing disregard and carelessness for 
Sabbath sacredness. Just where the trouble 
lies we cannot say. Possibly too much sup- 
pression in the by-gone generations, has 
produced this reaction as the natural result. 
But yesterday is past, with whatever mis- 
takes were made by the very best-inten- 
tioned parents, and we find ourselves facing 
the problems of to-day. Noting the many 
great hearts and thinking minds who are 
devoting their powers to a careful study of 
the nature, needs, and highest development 
of the children, the conviction grows that 
as the Master said of Man and the Sabbath, 
Education must be adapted to the child, not 
the child to Education, and we feel that we 
stand already in the brightening dawn of 
the Children's Century. 

We realize that into the hearts of our lit- 
tle ones must be instilled reverence for all 
days, but especially for this grand old 



ipreluoe. 15 

Seventh, ordained from the beginning and 
kept, down through the ages, as a day in 
which we may " come apart for a while " 
from the fret and friction of the world, to 
gather strength of body and depth of spirit- 
ual thought, that we may grow to a keener 
insight into humanity, that we may be more 
helpful where help is needed, which is ever 
a part of the highest worship. For this dear 
day, in which the home circle grows dearer, 
there cannot be upheld too high an ideal to 
the children: and this, not only for their 
own development of character, but for the 
influence which they in turn will exert out 
in the world, where the next decade will 
most surely launch them. They are the 
future fathers, mothers, teachers, and citi- 
zens of our land. If love for the day be the 
foundation, other principles will naturally 
follow. It is a day to be joyously welcomed, 
a day to be glad in, the uplifting influence 



1 6 jprelu&e. 

of which will extend through all the other 
six. 

Although the subject is upon Sabbath 
afternoon more particularly, I want to put 
in one word regarding the notable absence 
in all our churches of the little folks from 
the Sabbath-morning service. 

I strayed into a very large Boston church 
not long ago, and the sermon was so sim- 
ple, so clear that I thought, " How lovely 
for the children to hear this ! " but imagine 
my surprise when, waiting after service, I 
saw only three child-faces, and not one of 
them, I am sure, could have* been under 
twelve years of age. Into my mind crept a 
little poem of Margaret Sangster's, and I 
have longed to circulate the words in 
every nook and corner. Good things are 
ever fresh, and so I give them here as a lit- 
tle morsel of thought to digest, perhaps, in 
the twilight of the home fireside. 



11>relu&e. *7 

In the morn of the holy Sabbath 

I like, in the church, to see 
The dear little children clustered, and 

Worshiping there with me; 
I am sure that the gentle pastor, 

Whose words are like summer dew, 
Is cheered as he gazes over 

Those dear little heads in the pew. 

Faces earnest and thoughtful, 

Innocent, grave and sweet, 
They look in the congregation 

Like lilies among the wheat; 
And I think that the tender Master, 

Whose mercies are ever new, 
Has a special benediction 

For those dear little heads in the pew. 

When they hear " The Lord is my Shepherd," 

Or " Suffer the babes to come," 
They are glad that the loving Father 

Has given the lambs a home — 
A place of their own, with His people. 

He cares for me and for you, 
But close in His arms He gathers 

Those dear little heads in the pew. 



1 8 prelu&e. 

So I love, in the great assembly 

On the Sabbath morns, to see 
The dear little children clustered 

And worshiping there with me; 
For I know that our heavenly Father, 

Whose mercies are ever new, 
Has a special benediction 

For those dear little heads in the pew. 

I think the little ones may be guided into 
love for church, but never compelled. I 
remember my little girl of eight said to me 
one Sabbath morning: " I don't want to go 
to church.'* <c AH right," I replied, " per- 
haps you will feel better to stay at home, 
but I am sure the minister will miss you, 
and feel sorry." Nothing more was 
said, but when the church-bell rang I did 
not go alone. Ever afterward I found she 
felt her responsibility, that the minister 
needed her presence. 

After the lunch or dinner hour has passed 
and the afternoon glides round upon the 



pcelu&e. 19 

home, to keep the little hands and feet from 
mischief, or from the week-day romp and 
sports, and to substitute something as in- 
teresting, has been and is the puzzling ques- 
tion. 

The very atmosphere which to older 
hearts suggests peace and quiet is not, as 
we well know, so generally welcomed by 
the younger ones. The activity of their lit- 
tle bodies seems limitless, and their brains 
never so alert for concocting new mischief 
to be put into action at the very first op- 
portunity. To the rescue must come 
Mother, laying aside all thought of self, 
and until bedtime becoming wholly one 
with them. If the father is a very wise in- 
dividual he will join the group, and so bring 
added strength, and the direct sympathy 
and comfort the mother-heart craves. He 
should not miss such an opportunity to 
meet those choicest of friends, his own chil- 



20 prelufce* 

dren, and find refreshment away from busi- 
ness cares, in contact with these pure loving 
hearts through the long Sabbath afternoon. 

The suggestions I have to offer are only 
outlined as a general guidance. Mothers 
will naturally adapt them to the individual 
needs and capacity of their children. 

The ideas have been worked out in detail 
with one little girl, and so have proved at 
least practical. They have been offered to 
many mothers in my lectures, and have 
been received with earnest thanks. The 
endeavor was to pervade the Sabbath after- 
noon with a glad atmosphere; the hidden 
purpose, most earnestly spiritual. I have 
often been asked at what age a child could 
make a beginning. My little girl was four, 
but I see no reason why children of but 
three years of age could not put into prac- 
tice some of the more simple methods if 
wisely directed and encouraged, and the 



prelu&e. ** 

more advanced methods will naturally come 
as the years are added. It requires much 
patience in small things; but that is the 
mother's work — out of which have come all 
the great things of human achievement. 



H Xtfe /iDosatc. 

Father, to do great work for Thee my hand 
Is far too weak. Thou givest what may suit, — 
Some little chips to cut with care minute, 
Or tint, or grave, or polish. Others stand 
Before their quarried marble fair and grand, 
And make a life-work of the great design 
Which Thou hast traced: — . . . 
Yet take the tiny stones that I have wrought, 
Just one by one, as they were given by Thee, 
Not knowing what came next in Thy wise 
thought; 

And in Thy temple-pavement give them place. 
— Frances R. Havergal. 

22 



Blocfts, 

Nearly every child has a box of blocks, 
and from these a Noah's Ark can be con- 
structed while telling the story. Then, 
taking paper and scissors, fashion paper 
dolls of various sizes to represent Noah's 
family, or you can purchase the little 
wooden images of men if you desire. In 
simplest forms cut as many different ani- 
mals as you have in mind. Clip the limbs 
and turn the leg pieces to right and left, 
that they may stand, to form the procession 
as they march into the ark. 

The building of Solomon's Temple is 

another block device; the picture of this 

23 



24 SunDag atternoone. 

may be found in any Bible dictionary, or 
you can procure the special Temple build- 
ing blocks. So, too, one may help the little 
fingers to make a sheepfold, a well, an 
Eastern house with flat roof, the Old Testa- 
ment Altar of Incense, the Ark of the 
Covenant (with crochet-needles for the staff 
handles), and other objects of interest that 
will carry stories with them. 

Childish? Yes : it is for the little child. 



II. 
drawing. 

All children need a blackboard, placed 
near enough to the floor to be within easy 
reach; and the use which may be made of 
this and of slate and pencil is inexhaust- 
ible. 

Nearly all Sunday-school publication 
societies issue some booklets of simple 
illustrations that can be utilized in the home 
to great advantage, care being taken that 
the children copy with you, no matter how 
imperfectly. 

The Bible dictionary and primary Sun- 
day-school quarterlies will furnish many 

pictures of articles used in Bible times. The 

25 



26 SunDag afternoons. 

stable and manger in which lay the infant 
Christ will ever be the one that proves the 
most fascinating for childish reproduction. 
In connection with this the mother could 
teach the quaint little hymn that Martin 
Luther wrote for his own children. 

Away in a manger, - 

No crib for His bed, 
The little Lord Jesus 

Lay down His sweet head. 

The stars in the sky 

Looked down where He lay> — 
The little Lord Jesus 

Asleep in the hay. 

The cattle are lowing, 

The poor baby wakes, 
But the little Lord Jesus 

No crying He makes. 

I love Thee, Lord Jesus! 

Look down from the sky, 
And stay by my crib 

Watching my lullaby. 



III. 
patnttno Scripture Tlczts. 

Ordinary paper and water-colors may 
be used. The lettering should vary in size 
and design, according to the ability of the 
little artist. Models for the simple lettering 
may be made by the mother or any one in 
the family deft at such things, or printed 
texts may be used such as are sold in cheap 
forms on cards for hanging up. 

The German text is especially pretty — 

I?e caretfy for you. 

Other texts are : 

f)c voiU gtt>e fjis angels charge 

ot?er tfyee. 

27 



28 Sunoag Afternoons. 

Unberneatfy are tfye everlasting 

arms. 
(Dne (Bob anb £atfjer of all 

and numberless others will be suggested by 
familiar hymns and passages of Scripture. 

These can be arranged very prettily in 
circle form. If Mother does one just like 
the copy set for the child the delight and 
interest increase. Results will be very im- 
perfect at first, but the children are happy, 
and future attempts will be better in quality. 

The best one might be pinned on the wall 
in Mamma's room as a reward. Great care 
should be taken that the little ones do not 
sit too long at this exercise, as the position 
will easily cause weariness. The desire to 
do will often impel children to work be- 
yond the limit of wisdom. Little eyes and 
hands and backs are not very strong. 



IV. 

Sewing CarDs, 

All mothers who have had little ones in 
the Kindergarten know the delight they ex- 
press when " card day " dawns. Again 
and again my little girl would ask on Sun- 
day morning: " Mamma, couldn't I sew a 
card to-day? " 

Because it had been a week-day pleasure 

I had thought to find something different 

for Sunday. But, one stormy day, the 

wistfulness was so strong in the little face 

that I asked if she would like to work one 

with a motto. Not waiting to reply, she ran 

for needles and worsted, and I wrote (not 

printed) : 

God is Love. 

29 



3° SunDas Afternoons. 

After pricking the letters through the 
card she was soon at work, quietly and su- 
premely happy. When finished, it was 
hung upon the wall beside the bed. Scarcely 
an evening passed afterward, as she un- 
dressed, but that on seeing the card she 
would make some remark. Then in the 
dark, after I had left her, would be heard 
the song — in childish expression: 

" God, He do love me, this I know." 

This opened up quite a bundle of new 
ideas, and I drew crude pictures of articles 
in Bible history and sometimes pricked 
texts to combine with the object, — but 
more often without. The Beatitudes, and 
portions of that wonderful old chapter, the 
Fourteenth of St. John, the Shepherd 
psalm, and the Ninety-first. Worked in 
various colors they presented when pinned 



Sewing Gar&s. 31 

upon the wall a most satisfactory result to 
the earnest little worker. 

Milton & Bradley, of Springfield, Mass., 
have since issued a set of twelve cards of 
various objects, such as the horn, flute, 
harp, olive-tree, etc., which may be pur- 
chased for a small sum. 

For those who do not live where prick- 
ing-cushions and needles are easy of access, 
a cushion can easily be made of one or two 
thicknesses of soft woolen cloth, glued, 
sewed, or tacked firmly at the four corners 
upon stiff pasteboard, five by seven inches. 
A short stout hat-pin can be utilized as a 
pricking-needle. 



V. 

JBooWlDarfts. 

Another idea, and one that brings out 

tender thoughtfulness for others, is the 

making of little book-marks from paper. 

Cut heavy white pebbled paper an inch wide 

and eight inches long. Fold lengthwise, 

exactly in the centre. With scissors pink 

the outside edges. Then, with brush and 

bottle of Japanese " gold-paint," put a little 

gilding around the edges. This is also 

pretty with plain paint. Then letter it 

lengthwise with such words as : " Our 

Father Knoweth"; "Rest in the Lord"; 

" Wait patiently for Him " ; and paint or 

gild over the letters. Then ask the children 

32 



JSoo^/ibatfta. 33 

to whom they would like to make a little 
gift. Invariably they will astonish you with 
their reply, its fitness will so strike home, 
and to the friend who receives, it will be a 
" tiny token." 

" But when the heart is overwrought, 
Oh! who can tell 
The power of such tiny things 
To make it well ! " 

Even a child can feel another's pain, al- 
though unable to express sympathy in 
words. A mother recalls a sad day, some 
years ago, when, owing to sad experi- 
ences, the tears would fall. Her little girl 
looked at her in a startled, troubled way, 
and then ran out of the room. Returning 
soon, she tucked a little note into the 
mother's hand and ran out again. This was 
the note, — one that is treasured for past, 
present, and future comfort: 



34 Sun&ag atternoons. 

" dear Mamma, I do lub you — be good 
cher — I did overcum — rest in him by — yore 
dear/' 

Some of those old precious words had 
lodged in her little mind, to come forth from 
her comfort-bag just when they were 
needed, although she may not have fully re- 
alized what the expression signified. 



VI. 

I woxder if mothers realize the wonder- 
ful things that can be done with a sand- 
box? All progressive Sunday-school work- 
ers advise its use in the Sunday-school; 
tl en why not at home ? Any carpenter will 
make for a small sum an oblong box 3^ by 2 
feet — depth about six inches. Line with 
tin or zinc. Place this with the back edge 
elevated about two inches, on an old table 
that can be cut down low enough for the 
children to work at comfortably. Have a 
large square piece of oilcloth under the 
table and a tiny dust-pan and brush hung 

up on the side. Teach the children that a 

35 



3 6 Sun&aE Bfternoons. 

part of the programme is to sweep up after- 
ward. 

Have a box into which are gradually col- 
lected various sizes of stones or pebbles, 
and small twigs which if dipped into a so- 
lution of alum will last a long time; alsa 
a few tiny candles such as are used on birth- 
day cakes, one large candle, a package of 
the short kindergarten sticks, a ruler, a few 
toy animals, — especially sheep, — a variety 
of toy men, women, and children of tin or 
wood. If you have ingenuity, they can be 
made of pasteboard. 

Note the delight and keen interest of the 
child as with the aid of blocks and the 
moist sand you build the Table of Shew- 
bread, or make a well, or fashion an old- 
time Eastern home. Make also the kind 
of table used by the Lord and His disciples 
at the Last Supper. Show them the old 
Jewish Altar of Incense, and write on a 



sewing-card the names of the materials of 
which the incense was composed, with the 
book, chapter, and verse that picture the 
description. 

Light your large candle and place in the 
centre of the sand. This is always a source 
of keen interest to the children in represent- 
ing the text, " I am the Light of the 
World." Call their attention to the great 
round Sun. How dark and gray and dull 
the world would be if it were not for this 
bright light. Recall that Christ said: "I 
am the Light," and explain in what way 
this is true. Tell the children how He 
wants little lights everywhere to shine for 
Him. Ask them if they would not like to 
be a " little light." Place a tiny candle in 
each little hand, and ask how they are to get 
some light. Then let them each light their 
candles at the Christ-light and place them 
in the corners of the box. 



3^ SunDae Btternoons. 

" He bids us shine 

With a clear, pure light, 
Like a little candle 

Burning in the night. 
In the world is darkness, 

So we must shine, — 
You in your small corner, 

And I in mine." 

Explain to them that right in the home 
they must try to keep their own light burn- 
ing brightly; when mamma asks of them 
some little w r ork, to be ready at once to 
obey. If they wait, even one short minute, 
the light will grow very dim. Then tell 
them of the people who are sad and sick 
and tired, reminding them that they must 
have the Christ-light burning so brightly 
in their little hearts that it will shine 
through their faces and so comfort the 
weary ones. 

Another good illustration is to build a 
lighthouse of blocks and place the candle 



SanD*;So£. 39 

at the top. Put stones all around the base. 
Use green tissue-paper for the sea, and 
rumple it for the waves. Place little paste- 
board or paper boats here and there. A 
few small lighthouses add to the interest. 

Again, there is the parable of the Sower. 
Scatter a few rocks and stones in one cor- 
ner of the box. Lay a few of the short 
twigs in another spot to represent the 
thorny place, and picture the good ground 
by a smooth place. If you can, get some 
pieces of wheat, or a spray of leaves and 
blossoms from some one of your house- 
plants. Draw upon the children's imagina- 
tions all you can. Right here endeavor also 
to show the children what seed-sowing in 
the heart can be, — the seed of kind 
thoughts, gentle thoughts, loving thoughts; 
and then teach the little verse: 

" Kind hearts are the gardens, 
Kind thoughts are the roots, 



4° Sunday Bftemoons. 

Kind words are the blossoms.. 

Kind deeds are the fruits. 
Love is the sweet sunshine 

Which warms into life, 
For only in darkness 

Grow hatred and strife." 

The house built on the rock and the one 
on the sand is a good story for illustration 
— one of the very best. 

On a pile of stones build a house of 
blocks, another upon a mound of sand. 
This is a good object-lesson for the word 
Temptation. No little heart can resist 
wrong unless it is filled with the Light, and 
rests upon His strength, which is like a 
rock, sure and steadfast. Just here intro- 
duce the precious words, " He will be the 
rock of our strength if we put our trust in 
Him." 

Now gradually wash away the sand un- 
der the other house, and watch the chil- 
dren's faces as the house tumbles. Tell 



SanD*:fBos. 4 1 

them how sorry our Father is when we fall ; 

that it is because we have not asked His 

help. But when it happens we must tell 

Him all about it, and bravely build our 

house next time upon the rock. 

" Every day is a fresh beginning. 

Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain, 
And spite of old sorrow and older sinning, 
And puzzles forecasted, and possible pain, 
Take heart with the day, and begin again. 

" Sculptors of life are we, as we stand 
With our souls uncarved before us, 
Waiting the hour when at God's command 
Our life-dream passes o'er us. 

" If we carve it yet on the yielding stone, 
With many a sharp incision, 
Its heavenly beauty shall be our own, 
Our lives — that angel-vision." 

The Sheepfold is an illustration dearly 
loved by the children, especially when used 
in connection with the story of the 

" Ninety and nine that safely lay," 



4 2 SunDag Bfternoons. 

as in the beautiful song. When once you 
have begun with your sand-box the objects 
will throng for illustration. 



The endeavor to imprint texts and the 
lessons they teach upon the child-mind 
through illustration is but the suggestion 
given by the great Teacher of Nazareth. 
How simple His method; how naturally He 
drew upon the imagination of those about 
Him, seeking ever to imprint those marvel- 
lous life-giving truths He came to teach. 

Take that symbolic utterance, " I am the 
vine, ye are the branches." The child-heart 
is quickly responsive to this, the holy, beau- 
tiful lesson of close abiding. 

Every inward aspiration 

Is God's angel undefiled; 
And in every " O my Father! " 

Slumbers deep a "Here, my child!" 



VII. 

ffiowers. 

One of the sweetest lessons on the sub- 
ject of Trust was taught by the Master in 
His beautiful words : " Consider the lilies 
of the field, how they grow; they toil not, 
neither do they spin, yet I say unto you that 
Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed 
like one of these." 

Point out to the children the fact that the 
flowers do not fret because they are not 
vines or trees; that they simply grow just 
where God places them, content with being 
sweet and gentle and making the world 
better and brighter by their being in it. 

43 



44 SunoaE Afternoons. 

Do mothers realize the utility of window- 
boxes during the winter months, in the 
nursery, or any room, that the children 
freely feel to be their own? The tending of 
the flowers is a constant source of delight, 
beside the various object-lessons that are 
continually presenting themselves for the 
mother's development. 

Nasturtium seeds render the largest re- 
turns in blossoms, and if on Sunday after- 
noon, before the twilight hour, the child 
gathers a few, and taking one of her little 
texts, goes to call upon some old lady, a 
bond of sympathy is established which in 
after-years will be looked back upon by 
the child as one of the pleasant places in 
life's journey. The dear old people who 
have lost the friends of youth and who 
have buffeted the storms of life are often 
very lonely and disheartened. Why are we 
not more tender of them? The romance is 



tflowers, 45 

still in their hearts, and there are stories re- 
vealed in the wrinkled faces if we will only 
look. More and more as the years go on 
do I experience a growing sense of grati- 
tude that so many of my childhood days 
were encircled with the atmosphere of 
elderly people. Let us not forget them, but 
take them all the brightness we can, and 
learn patience and trustfulness from their 
quiet lives. 

Influence the children to think of them in 
all the little ways possible. Send them to 
call whenever you can. A fresh child-face 
with its glow of youth and radiant health is 
always an inspiration to the aged, recalling 
their own early life, the precious memories 
that easily die away for lack of nourish- 
ment. The past has ever a wonderful charm 
to the old. Then the child brings in new 
interests and affections which are an added 
source of comfort. Reverence and respect 



46 SunDag Bfternoone. 

will grow in the children through no better 
avenue than this. 

Just for a diversion let me tell you of 
an old lady. She kept some flowers for 
a week, brought her by a child, and then 
with glistening eyes she opened her Bible 
to show me that she was. pressing whatever 
good ones had been left. 

" It's that silly," she said; " but she had 
a bonnie face! " 

It so touched me that I asked if there was 
anything we could do, anything for which 
she longed. 

" Well! " she said. " Could you sing to 
me?" 

" What would you. like? " I asked. 

" ' Rock of Ages ' is a^good old tune, and 
you might end up with ' Blest be the Tie/ " 
said the old lady hesitatingly. 

The child with me began, and had hardly 
sung two bars before the long pent up 



fflowers, 47 

music in the old lady's feet and hands began 
to beat time, and the querulous voice 
blended with the sweet treble of the child, 
to the very evident satisfaction of both. 
The old lady sang herself out at last, and, 
turning to me, said apologetically: 

" When I was a gal, I was first in the 
singin' seats along with Sam Jones; he sung 
base. He took sick and died. I never 
wanted to sing arterwards." 

There was her story, that no passing of 
years had obliterated: the blighted hopes, 
the suppressed pain, and the gradual ac- 
ceptance of life as it had come to her. 
Peace was not written in the worn face, 
only submission and resignation. A far- 
away look came into her eyes. I felt I stood 
on sacred ground and that any word of 
mine would seem an intrusion. So we left 
her quietly sitting there. 

That night her spirit passed out into the 



48 Sun&ag Btternoons. 

life beyond. She had fainted soon after our 
visit and remained unconscious to the last. 
Once only she spoke, and then said: 

" It was a good Rock." 

Beneath her pillow was found the little 
text, worked in worsted, " Underneath are 
the everlasting arms." When the child was 
told she said: 

" Mamma, do you suppose she will see 
Sam Jones? " 

I was sure of it. 



VIII. 
H Bible Book* 

For the older children the study of the 
Bible can be made a delight. For a foun- 
dation each child should possess a blank 
book with durable covers. No better name 
can be given than to term it their " Bible 
Book." 

A useful part of Bible knowledge is 
familiarity with the names of its books. 
Memorizing the names of the books of 
the Bible is not always an easy task, as the 
names alone convey little interest to the 
children. A little planning, and we soon 
find devices for making matters interesting. 

49 



5© Sun&ag Bftevnoons. 

Procure heavy sheathing-paper at the 
hardware store. The dull red is preferable, 
as color ever enhances the value of the ob- 
ject in the child-heart. Cut it about 36 
inches long and 30 wide. Divide into three 
or four horizontal parts, to represent a book- 
case, on whose shelves the books shall stand 
— 39 for the Old Testament and 27 for the 
New. 

Then take plain cartridge paper of some 
harmonizing color, say cream, and cut into 
strips uneven in width, varying from one 
half to two inches, according to the size of 
the book to be represented, slightly round- 
ing the tops. As Genesis is a large book, 
take a strip about one and a half inches 
wide. The strips may be uniform in height, 
as for a set of backs, or vary as a library 
might do. Letter them perpendicularly 
with the names of the books, and paste 
Genesis on the extreme upper left-hand cor- 



& tiiblc ®oo& 5 * 

tier as being the first book on the first shelf ; 
and so proceed with the others. Use various 
colors in the lettering if it renders memor- 
izing the names any easier. Let the chil- 
dren take part in the work and they will 
rapidly become familiar with it all. In this 
way the names are acquired with little effort, 
while the little fingers are acquiring dexter- 
ity, and the hours pass pleasantly. 

To keep them more definitely before the 
child, select such passages from each book, 
for memorizing, as would be helpful and 
comforting in after life. There are the poetry 
of the Psalms, the treasures of Isaiah, the 
Master's own words of love, cheer, and 
comfort contained in the Gospels; the di- 
versities of gifts, and wholesome strength 
of the twelfth and thirteenth chapters of 
First Corinthians; the wise counsel of 
James; the beauties of the Revelation. In 
some hour of conflict, trial, or heartache 



52 Sunoa^ Afternoons. 

these precious words will reveal themselves 
with interpretations unknown before. 

But, as to the blank Bible Book. One 
of the best Sunday-school teachers I ever 
knew required the class to write in a 
blank book the lesson of the preceding 
week in the form of a story. The children 
in this class were eight and nine years of 
age. For your own children at home, you 
can take one story each Sabbath, such as 
the Flood, Joseph and his Brethren, Moses 
in the Bulrushes, etc. Tell the story to 
the very best of your ability, simply, but 
with as much bright interest as if it were a 
fairy tale or Jack the Giant-killer. Then- 
ask if they can repeat it to you, and en- 
courage them by smiles and a real sym- 
pathy. When they have done that, propose 
their writing a little about it, on paper or 
slate, avoiding all criticism of their expres- 
sion. That will improve. Then let them 



% mUc $00ft. 53 

copy it into the Bible Book and you may 
offer some slight reward if it be done neatly. 

Small unmounted photographs of the 
Holy Land can be purchased at moderate 
cost and are invaluable in story-telling. 
Reserve all magazines and periodicals that 
have pictures pertaining to anything con- 
nected with Bible history, or that could be 
used advisedly. The International Quar- 
terlies afford good material, and the little 
ones could be taught to cut these out neatly 
for the older children to insert in their 
books with the story they wish to illustrate. 

The sacred narrative of the Christ and 
His life upon earth is ever welcomed with 
interest by the children. Few are the ex- 
ceptions where the Christ story is not loved 
the best. Do not dwell upon the sadness 
of His troubles or the horrors of the cruci- 
fixion. I think that with children under ten 
that really should be left out altogether. 



54 Sunday Bfternoona. 

Their little minds are so actively imagina- 
tive that the danger is great to a sensitive 
child. The circumstances surrounding His 
birth and His grand, full life afford enough 
material. His mission of love and peace 
can be readily assimilated by these tender 
little souls, and above all, they naturally re- 
alize His nearness and sympathy when 
there are presented to them. It will come 
to them — the gradual realization — that as 
each day dawns there comes with it some 
new duty, which if done cheerfully will 
give them the privilege of representing the 
Christ-child in their own little world. 

Then there are the tales of Palestine, the 
walks and homes of the Master. There are 
so many aids in the various books, written 
within the last few years, that nearly every 
good publishing house has some excellent 
volumes upon these Bible stories. 

One is " The Prince of Peace," by Mrs. 



% 3Bible Book. 55 

Alden, whom we all recognize as " Pansy," 
published by the John Y. Huber Co., 
Philadelphia. This is a large book, full of 
delight, and the illustrations are good. 

Another is " The Child Jesus," published 
by A. M. Thayer & Co., Boston, by Mrs. 
Bass. This is smaller, but for the younger 
ones, especially, exquisite in tone. The 
author was assisted by Dr. Merrill, United 
States Minister to Palestine for many years. 
The motherly, confiding way in which this 
author seems to draw the children about 
her has the very evident design of bringing 
to every child-heart a nearer realization of 
what that perfect childhood represented. 
Dr. Merrill's residence in Palestine for 
twenty years enabled him to see child-life in 
all its stages, and the different phases of 
home living. The aspect of the country is 
most vividly described, and any child of six 
years could easily comprehend the story. 



5 6 SunDag Afternoons. 

You see the little Christ-child performing 
His part in the household as naturally as 
our children of to-day. The morning and 
evening prayers, the singing of the Psalms, 
are depicted; and although we have no 
Bible statement that that little one played 
games, yet the author has drawn from his- 
tory and the life there the interesting facts 
that children in those days enjoyed ball, 
that jointed dolls amused the little girls, 
that there were rattles and cymbals for the 
babies, and that hollow clay puppets repre- 
senting animals and human beings were 
not uncommon. The children swung, and 
fished, and had their own little gardens. 

The school-life of the Jewish children is 
1 described very graphically. How closely 
-all this brings young hearts into that far- 
away life lived here upon earth in the body! 
And I know that the sacredness of it all 
is held deeply by the little people, who feel 



& JBible ffiooft. 57 

their oneness with that life-story, because 
He too was once a child, and because when 
He was older He said: " Suffer little chil- 
dren to come unto Me." Can they realize 
this closeness too early, this enduring love 
and sympathy, the one strong, sure haven 
where they can retire and seek help and 
comfort? 

Another book has attracted my attention, 
called " The Story of Jesus," by Mrs. 
Louisa T. Craigin, published by Fords, 
Howard, & Hulbert, New York, of which 
enough cannot be said. Whittier's praise 
of it was that " the eye, the heart, the intel- 
lect are equally satisfied " ; and Gen. Lew 
Wallace touched the truth when he wrote 
that " it is a book to ramble through on 
Sunday afternoons, charming alike to 
young and old." 

Indeed it is, and Mrs. Craigin's deep in- 
vestigation and thorough study of her sub- 



58 SunDaE Bfternoons, 

ject resulted in a superior vein of narrative, 
of reflection, and of expressive language. 
She introduces Geikie's unsurpassed scenic 
descriptions of Palestine, combined with 
Canon Farrar's rare spiritual conception of 
the peacefulness of the haunts of the 
Master, and Beecher's beautiful imagery 
and delicate touch of the Christ nature. She 
has culled her facts from every possible 
source and woven in much of the actual 
text of the Gospel biographies with a true 
weaver's instinct. Of the illustrations by 
Bida and other artists there is a fine descrip- 
tive list, and for the story itself an analytical 
index, a very rare annex to books of this 
kind, which would aid any child almost as 
much as a Bible dictionary. The views of 
landscapes and localities are authentic, 
taken during years of study in the Holy 
Land. 
Again, there are engravings of every arti- 



B Bible Book. 59 

cle of interest in the life of Christ. Lamps, 
sandals, phylacteries, sheepfolds, water and 
wine skin-bottles, loaded camels, Oriental 
housetops, lilies of the field, nets and fish- 
ing, and all the homely and homelike va- 
riety of the things of common life which 
Jesus so constantly used as illustrations of 
His teachings. 

The entire work brings one very closely 
into touch with the human, and Palestine 
seems very near at hand. 

Books such as these which I have men- 
tioned are a vital necessity in the spiritual 
environment of the home. Economize in 
other forms of expenditure if necessary for 
the children, but feed their young minds on 
the most nutritious food possible : home 
influence is sure to tell in the long run. 



IX. 

Bible 5tufc£— IResearcb* 

With the aid of a concordance find how 
many times such words as joy, peace, love, 
patience, light, forgiveness occur in the Old 
or New Testament. By writing them in the 
Bible book, with references to each, the 
children are acquiring a good foundation 
for future Bible interest. 

My little girl earned her missionary 
money by memorizing these verses, each 
two entitling her to a penny for her mission- 
ary fund as an incentive. In this way her 
interest in missions was kept bright, and 

she was storing up a goodly supply of 

60 



MUc StuDg-IResearcb, 61 

Scripture upon subjects that would give 
comfort in after-years. I found, in training 
her to systematic giving, that earning the 
money enhanced its value. The subject of 
missions is ever a problem for the children. 
I think some definite object where they can 
see results, appeals to them far more 
quickly than some work afar off beyond 
their ken. 

Induce the children to write in their Bible 
Book a list of the Bible characters they en- 
joy the best, and the reasons why. Then 
under each name write one or two short 
sentences to express some notable or beau- 
tiful act of their lives. 

Find all the names by which Our Father 
is known in the Bible, and, if you can do so, 
ascertain by what names He is called in 
other languages. The older ones would be 
glad to record them in their book. 

The boys naturally would seek for the 



62 Sunday Bfternoons. 

kind of beasts found in Palestine, birds, 
reptiles, fishes, insects, and metals; the 
wars, battles, and which side won; the kind 
of armor worn, etc. With their attention 
drawn to such matters you will be surprised 
how soon the boys will be as eager over 
their Bible Book as over their Stamp 
Album. 

Let the girls glean all they can of plants, 
flowers, fruits, and trees, especially the olive 
and palm. Musical instruments in sacred 
history give another interesting series. 
Again, look up various textile fabrics, — 
cloth, how it was made, style of clothing 
worn, garments of men, women, and chil- 
dren, including the various sorts of foot- 
gear. 

Much can be found about the buildings, 
houses, homes, way of living, cooking 
utensils used; means of lighting and heat- 
ing the homes, modes of government, travel 



Mble StuOfi— Kesearcb. 63 

and conveyance; how commerce was car- 
ried on; manner of trading, and coins used; 
the Tabernacles and Temples; the mode of 
w r orship. 

A most interesting subject is that of Let- 
ters and Books used in ancient days ; their 
gradual improvement to the time of the 
New Testament; whether they were writ- 
ten or printed, on what, and with what in- 
struments? What form had they? Was 
ink in use? If so, of what was it com- 
posed? 

The topic of the Children of the Bible 
opens up a delightful line of inquiry, and 
one is really surprised to find how many 
there are. Take the Miracles and Parables, 
those in each Testament. Where were they 
performed, by whom, under what circum- 
stances — especially those of Christ ? the 
Prayers offered, and the kind of petition. 
Those children who enjoy geography are 



64 5unOa£ Bftemoons. 

interested in tracing on the map such steps 
as the journeyings of the Children of Israel 
into the Promised Land, the pedestrian 
tours of Jesus, etc.; but always this should 
go with the mingled story. 

Search out the rivers, lakes, caves and 
mountains, sacred and historic. The pre- 
cious stones of the Bible are choice and 
valuable. What beauty in the arrangement 
of the High Priest's breastplate! 

" And thou shalt set in it settings of 
stones, even four rows of stones: the first 
row shall be a sardius, a topaz, and a car- 
buncle: this shall be the first row. And the 
second row shall be an emerald, a sapphire, 
and a diamond. And the third row a ligure, 
an agate, and an amethyst. And the fourth 
row a beryl, and an onyx, and a jasper: they 
shall be set in gold in their inclosings." 

Then, again, from that glorious twenty- 
first chapter of Revelation., the kind of 



JBible Stufcg— IResearcb, 65 

stones that express figuratively the founda- 
tion wall of the heavenly city. 

"The first foundation was jasper: the 
second, sapphire; the third, chalcedony; 
the fourth, an emerald; the fifth, sardonyx; 
the sixth, sardius ; the seventh, chrysolite : 
the eighth, beryl; the ninth, a topaz; the 
tenth, a chrysoprasus ; the eleventh, a 
jacinth; the twelfth, an amethyst." 

Do you remember the spiritual corre- 
spondence of these stones as given by Mrs. 
Whitney in her " Hitherto : A Story of 
Yesterdays " ? 

" The crimson that lies at the beginning: 
it is the color of passion, suffering. Out of 
the crimson we climb into the blue — that 
is truth and calm. Beyond is the white, 
glistening chalcedony, for purity ; and next 
flashes out the green, the hope of glory. 
Then they mingle and alternate, the tender- 
ness and the pain, and the purifying; it is 



66 5unDa£ mtemoons. 

the veined sardonyx stands for that, the life 
story. 

" The blood-red sard is the sixth stone, 
the whole triumphant love that contains 
and overwhelms all passion; the blessed- 
ness intense with its included anguish. It is 
the middle band; the supreme and central 
type; crowning the human, underlying 
the heavenly. Then the tints grow clear 
and spiritual: chrysolite, golden green, 
touched with a glory manifest; the blend- 
ing of a rarer and serener blue, the won- 
derful, sea-pure beryl; then, the sun-filled 
rapture of the topaz; and chrysoprase, 
where flame and azure find each other, the 
joy of the Lord, and the peace that passeth 
understanding. In the end, the jacinth 
purple, and pure amethyst, into which the 
rainbow refines itself at last, hinting at the 
far distance of ineffable things. For it is 
the story o! the rainbow, too." 



Mhlc gtudg— l&eseatcb. 67 

Could a young boy or girl memorize any- 
thing more beautiful than this wonderful 
alphabet of the entire Revelation? Writ- 
ing it first will be a great help to that, and 
think how it will help and strengthen and 
make glow deep places in their future lives, 
of which they perhaps may not speak to a 
human soul ! 

There is really no limit to the profit and 
pleasure children might have if properly 
directed in regard to the inexhaustible re- 
sources of the dear old Bible. This search- 
ing can be made a delight, and I can sug- 
gest from experience that the more the chil- 
dren write, even if it be trifling, upon what 
they find, the more interested they become. 
It strengthens the memory and is a great 
aid in learning to express themselves with 
correctness and fluency. I give here the 
sample of a story — the child's age being 
six: 



68 Sunoag afternoons. 

The Prodigal Son. 

" A nice, good man lived long ago. He 
had two nice boys who growed. One liked 
to do things. The other let the naughty in 
his heart, and he didn't. By and by he 
asked his papa for some pennies to run out 
into the world and see the rivers and things. 
His papa was sorry, but he did. Do you 
know that boy spent all his pennies ? He 
felt very bad and he had only bird's food to 
eat. He got some pigs to take care of and 
love. But those pigs just grunted, and he 
wanted his father very bad. He had nothing 
nice to wear, and his trunk was lost. He 
went just the same. God told the papa that 
the bad boy was coming. The papa run, 
and the boy run right into his arms, and 
that bad boy got a hug and a pretty ring, 
and pie for his dinner. It was so good to 
get home and have that pie, that he never 



3Btble StuDg— IResearcb. 69 

wanted to be bad again. I know a verse 
about this — 

Stay, stay at home my hart an rest — 
Home keepin harts is the hapest." 



Helpful little talks can be given the chil- 
dren in connection with their looking up of 
things mentioned. For instance, in the 
parable of the Pearl of Great Price, some 
inquiry may be made as to where pearls are 
obtained in the first place. Very naturally 
will follow the lesson of quiet patience in 
the pearl and the oyster, in comparison with 
the little irritating things in their own lives, 
that they long to be rid of, yet may make 
beautiful by cheerful endurance. 

Youth is such a glorious seed-time and 
children's minds offer such fertile soil that 
the cultivation of them is not only full of 
delight but full of promise for almost limit- 
less fruit-bearing. 



X. 
3BfbIe Questions. 

A package of Bible Questions is almost 
indispensable in a household of young 
people. You can purchase them, if time is 
limited, upon the Old or the New Testa- 
ment, or together. They are thorough 
search-questions upon the lives of the great 
Men of Israel, Geography of Palestine, and 
the Sacred Literature, the Women of the 
Bible, the Life of Christ, and the Disciples. 
One method which I found to be very prac- 
tical was to write on a card each Sabbath 
three or four leading questions upon the 
Sunday-school lesson. In this way they are 

more easily memorized. Your package will 

70 



soon increase. The definite purpose in 
keeping them is that an occasional review 
is a pleasure, a means of profit, and if at 
times father and mother become pupils and 
the child do the questioning the interest is 
increased. 



XL 

^letters. 

The uses of a box of letters are varied if 

one exercises a little thought. The expense 

is trifling if one wishes to purchase. In the 

stores they are known as the game of 

" Anagrams," costing about fifteen cents 

per box; and two boxes do not come amiss. 

In country places, where such things are 

hard to procure, the children could make 

them from small pieces of cardboard about 

three quarters of an inch square. You will 

need about three times the alphabet in 

capital letters, and four times in small, five 

times the vowels, and a few extra of h, r, s, 

t, and w. 

72 



Hettera. 73 

For words take prominent Bible proper 
names. Little by little, spelling and name 
will become fixed in the child's memory. 
These may be varied by taking other words 
that occur in the Scripture which can be 
associated with any idea of interest to the 
children; names of places, and of illustra- 
tive things, such as occur in the parables, 
etc. Practice develops ingenuity. 

In this way the children are using the 
ringers in connection with mind, and every 
mother knows the contentment when both 
these factors are working in unison. 



XII. 

<SiuestiotWBo£. 

Children are busy thinkers, and scarce- 
ly an hour passes in the day but that some 
experience starts an idea which must be 
put forth in a question. Mother is often 
too busy for interruption,' or she may be 
away. A disappointed, lonely feeling comes 
over the child, whose every thought is im- 
pulse, and the eager little natures, as we 
know, usually demand immediate replies. 

Would it not be a wise invention for the 
child to write that query upon paper and 
reserve for a Sabbath-afternoon question- 
box? It would also teach control of their 
best thoughts, as children would hardly 
care to write what really was of little im- 
portance. 

74 



XIII. 

Gbristmas. 

The two great holy days of the Christian 
year are now recognized as Christmas and 
Easter. The meaning of these needs to be 
placed before the children carefully and 
sacredly. Begin by the first Sabbath after 
Thanksgiving with the Christmas thought. 
Collect all the tales and legends within 
reach upon the advent of the Christ-child, 
the various hymns and songs that bring 
Him closely to the child-heart. Phillips 
Brooks's beautiful hymn upon the Nativity, 
beginning — 

" O little town of Bethlehem, 
How still we see thee lie! " * 



* This and some other similar poems may be found towards 
the end of this book. 

75 



76 Sun&ag Bftecnoona. 

once learned would imprint the scene of the 
story upon the memory indefinitely. The 
tender, quaint old song, 

" Mine Ain Countree," 

is another influence not soon forgotten. 

Have a good sized box marked " Christ- 
mas " as a receptacle for gifts made by 
loving child fingers. This imparts to the 
children the spirit of giving, the great les- 
son the Master taught by His life. 

Procure all the pictures you can of the 
Nativity by the various artists, and paste 
them on cards for the children's hospitals. 
The " Perry pictures," costing only one 
cent each, can be utilized in many ways. 

You have probably found that the Sun- 
day after Christmas brings a lull. Possibly 
the children would enjoy writing out, in 
journal or story form, the way they spent 
Christmas. It would give them pleasure 
to read these over in later years. 



Cbttstmas. 77 

Every year would bring a different story, 
and they would make quite a helpful bud- 
get to pass on to their own children. 

It may interest some child to read the 
account of one little girl's Christmas, writ- 
ten by herself at the age of ten years: 

How I Spent my Christmas. 

I did want Christmas to come so. I 
could hardly wait. My mamma had a 
Christmas tree for her little school children, 
and I had helped to get the little bundles 
ready. Mamma told the children that Mr. 
and Mrs. Santa Claus had so many children 
to visit that they could not come to us. 
and so grandma Santa Claus would come 
instead. I dressed up as grandma; I had 
a big red and white tissue hood, a pair of 
spectacles, and two shawls draped on me. 
It was such fun, but the children knew me 



78 Sunday Btternoons, 

right off by my eyes. But we had a nice 
happy time, and ate ice cream in mamma's 
room. This was the day before Christmas. 
Then I tried to go quietly to bed, but it was 
hard work, for you know I had hung my 
stocking. But I did go to sleep after a 
while, and very early in the morning I crept 
into mamma's room. There was my stock- 
ing full of little bundles, and a chair beside 
it with some books and stationery that I 
liked very much. I was so glad I could 
hardly eat my breakfast. Then mamma and 
I went to church and heard the lovely music 
the angels sung when the Christ-child was 
born, " Peace on earth, good will toward 
men." It was beautiful. I felt so glad. 

Our Sunday-school class gave a dinner to 
a poor family. Each took ten cents of our 
own money to get enough to buy a chicken, 
and then every child brought one thing be- 
sides for the dinner. I had nuts to bring. 



Cbrtstmas, 79 

After I came home from church I fixed a 
small basket to take to a dear little school- 
mate who is very poor. Her mamma is 
dead, and she has to make her own clothes. 
I put in a soft ribbon to tie her hair, a 
pocket handkerchief, and as Santa Claus 
had given me three little silk ones, I 
gave her one with rosebuds in the corner. 
Mamma said it was the prettiest, but you 
know we must give the best. I was real 
glad, and she was so pleased, for nobody 
had given her one. 

When I came home it was snowing, and 
there were as many as fifty little snowbirds 
on a tree in front of the house. I threw 
them a plate of crumbs. How they twit- 
tered and chirped, just as if they knew it 
was Christmas. I took some little notes for 
mamma after our dinner. I was very tired 
then, and mamma thought I had better go 
to rest like the sparrows. So we sang some 



So SunfcaB Btternoons. 

hymns in the twilight, and mamma talked 
to me a little, and very soon I went to sleep. 
It was a happy Christmas, and I wish every- 
body had as glad a one. 



XIV. 

Ube "Ring's SLittle ©nes. 

If the tiny cross worn by the King's Sons 

and Daughters means so much to older 

ones, what might it not do for our little 

ones? The Order is so utterly unsectarian, 

so broad in its outreaching influences, so 

high in its purposes, that I cannot refrain 

from placing its worth before all mothers. 

Such impressionable hearts as the children 

possess, and so generally kindly, are easily 

reached by such devices. Would it not be 

of service to each of them to own one of the 

little crosses, and with Mamma and their 

mates band themselves together to work 

" In His Name " ? 

81 



82 Sunoag afternoons. 

My little girl borrowed her mother's 
cross to keep her from pouting one day 
when things did not go right. The same 
child once thought she could endure a 
severe burn better if she could hold the 
cross in her hand. And when at her twelfth 
year we formed a little circle, of girls about 
her age, there was a general jubilee. On 
May-day all the " shut-in " Old ladies were 
the recipients of a May basket, with home- 
made peppermints to console their lonely 
hours. 

These are only suggestions ; but " Tall 
oaks from little acorns grow," and the 
richer the soil the stronger the tree. Ex- 
ternal influence of any kind — good or bad — 
is the strongest factor in a child's life and 
character, and it is eternal. 

The suggestion has been made that there 
may be many who do not know just what 
the Order is, and that some explanation 



Cbe "Ring's Xtttle ©nes. 83 

would not be ill-timed. The organization is 
one of such deep interest that I am only too 
glad of the opportunity of extending any 
information of its helpful, far-reaching in- 
fluence. 

Ten New York ladies who had felt the 
great need of deepening their spiritual life 
determined to band together and test the 
question as to whether union, for personal 
development in the Christian life and use- 
fulness in work, could be more helpful. 
The seed of this perhaps had been sown 
from Edward E. Hale's " Lend a Hand " 
movement, and the mottoes, 

" Look up and not down; 
Look forward and not backward; 
Look out and not in; and 
Lend a hand," 

were taken from the same source, in con- 
nection with the watchword, 



84 SunDa$ Bfternocms. 

"IN HIS NAME." 
These ladies met at the home of Mrs. 
Margaret Bottome on the morning of Jan. 
13, 1886, and after due deliberation organ- 
ized for mutual service into a sisterhood. 
Mrs. Bottome was chosen President, and 
through the suggestion of Mrs. Irving, a 
lady well known in New York City as an 
educator of girls, the name of " The King's 
Daughters " was adopted, and a silver 
Maltese cross was chosen for a badge. 




There was no thought of a world-wide or- 
ganization. The desire was simply that 
each might become the center of a better 
influence, as other " Tens " were formed. 
But the word " Ten " was soon dropped, 



Gbe KinQ'6 %itt\c Ones. 85 

and the word " Circle " adopted, that the 
numbers might be unlimited. Each circle 
were to choose their own officers and seek 
their own work, provided always they kept 
in mind the objects stated in the constitu- 
tion: "The development of spiritual life 
and the stimulation of Christian activities." 

One great beauty of the organization is 
that it is unsectarian. It is an impulse 
toward union of spirit in the religious 
world, that in each soul where the Christ 
life has dawned may also come the desire 
for service " In His Name." No one is 
excluded. Church membership is not 
necessary. Nationality, creed, or age bars 
no one from the Order. 

" Of a truth, I perceive that God is no 
respecter of persons." 

" Other sheep have I that are not of this 
fold." 

It is an Order that may touch every life, 



86 SunDag Bfternoone. 

in any place. Said one overburdened 
mother to me: " My life is such a busy one, 
I'm often too tired to think." 

" Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do 
all In His Name" That blessed Whatsoever 
covers all kinds and degrees of work, — 
every daily, unrecognized, commonplace 
duty. No matter how hard the position in 
which one is placed, service is sweetened 
because another cares, love lifts and bears 
burdens utterly impossible to be borne 
alone. In this way are we gradually drawn 
into the heart of the Infinite love. 

In 1887 membership was granted to men 
and boys, and the incorporated name of the 
organization now stands as 

" The International Order 

OF THE 

King's Daughters and Sons." 
In 1896, after ten years' existence, the 



Cbe "Ring's Xittle ©nes. 87 

organization had attained a membership of 
400,000. To quote from one of the leaflets 
published at the headquarters, 156 Fifth 
Avenue, New York City, we find it has ex- 
tended through North and South America, 
Great Britain and Germany, France, Italy, 
Greece, Switzerland, Denmark, and Turkey 
in Europe; in India, China, Japan, and 
Turkey in Asia; Australia, New Zealand, 
the Sandwich and Hawaiian Islands ; in the 
Bermudas and Bahamas; in Palestine, 
Smyrna, while there are several hundreds of 
members in mission fields abroad. There 
is also a steadily increasing membership. 

How little those ladies thought that win- 
try morning of the results of their act ! 
Hardly any class of people has been for- 
gotten in the work of the various circles. 
None of the work is done in the spirit of 
conventional " charity," but everywhere the 
endeavor is to place the aided if possible 



38 5un&a£ afternoons. 

upon their own feet. As silently as possible, 
help is given as to a sister, a brother, a 
friend, with the whispered watchword, 

" In His Name." 

This may seem a deviation from the sub- 
ject of the Children's Sunday Afternoon, 
yet it is one of the vital touches toward right 
living and may tend to the development and 
growth of children's circles. The tiny talis- 
man of the silver cross and the watchword 
are far more helpful to the child in the daily 
routine than older people realize. The 
natural selfishness of many children I have 
seen changed under the refining influences 
of this Silver Cross movement. Beside the 
motive of self-betterment they crave work 
for others with tangible results. 

Do you ask what they could undertake? 

Smoothing some of Mamma's wrinkles away. 
Smiles for Papa when he comes home. 



Gbe lktna'0 Xfttle Qnee. 89 

Doing cheerfully what is requested of them. 
Making paper dolls for sick children. 
Scrap-books, dressing of dolls, for the hospital 

wards. 
Making candy and selling it, the money to 

help the Fresh-air Fund. 

There are indeed many ways in which 
these little ones may help. Many times I 
have been asked how the meetings for chil- 
dren could be conducted. I will give the 
usual programme of one. 

Reading of Bible verses. 

Silent Prayer. 

Song. 

Question-box, conducted for fifteen min- 
utes: the girls being privileged to bring 
anything that troubles them, written on a 
slip of paper, to be dropped into the box. 

Song. 

Work given out for the following month. 
Example : Calling upon some " Shut-In " ; 



9° SunDae mtevnoone. 

making the life of some child happier, who 
was not as fortunate as they. 

Consecration hymn : " More love to 
Thee," etc. 

A Talk — upon some given subject. 

Prayer; closing with the hymn " Nearer, 
my God, to Thee." 

Sometimes the form of our programme 
varied, and a story or poem was introduced 
by the girls. The meeting was held always 
on Sunday afternoon and was always 
spoken of as a " coming together." 

The Order is just another of the projects 

that our Father has blessed, for drawing 

hearts into a deeper realization of the 

Christ-spirit. Each can echo the little 

verse : 

" I only ask to sing 
A little song, so true and strangely sweet 
That, though it be not wise or e'en complete, 
The tired world, while going to and fro, 
More glad and faithful, hearing it, shall grow." 



XV. 

/IDustc in tbe f>ome. 

If there is an influence for good more 
mighty than another in the life of a child, 
it is the potent one of music. The melody, 
appealing to their innocent hearts, meets 
with instant response. Mothers with teeth- 
ing, restless little ones have realized the 
soothing power of a few gentle tones. 
How quickly the baby will let go of self 
and remain, for the time, quiet and pliant 
to the rhythm. 

Music may be made the most vital ex- 
pression of the Infinite love, touching the 
throbbing pulse of the world's earnest 

workers, who are everywhere endeavoring 

91 



9 2 Sunday afternoons. 

to strike their own full note, amid the din 
and strife. Its mission is to bring harmony 
of spirit — a keener realization of the Divine. 
It is a messenger of peace. 

I once asked a great singer, whose whole 
nature was spiritual, why it was that she had 
never connected herself with any church. 
" Oh! " she replied. "My song is my re- 
ligion. No church is large enough to hold 
me. When I see tears in the eyes of any 
face in my audience, I know I have touched 
a heart, and my song has not been in vain." 

Later, looking into her face as she sang, 

" Nearer, my God, to Thee," 

I felt that I understood her thought. 
Every note she uttered was freighted with 
a message of noble inspiration to every 
heart within hearing. The hymn was a 
prayer. No purely technical singer could 
have uttered this; it is only for those 



tihuexc in tbe 1bome. 93 

gifted singers who have come to under- 
stand the divine message of music. 

It is a blessing, that so many poets, with 
true heart-instinct for the child, have 
written such helpful words for them during 
the last few years. Sympathetic composers 
have taken the words and set them to 
music, adapted to the child voices. Great 
have been the delight and pleasure of the 
children through song. Their imaginations 
are easily starved and a story combined in 
song is food indeed for their little minds. 

An old hymn that nearly all mothers of 
this generation learned when young, has 
happily been set to music in such soothing- 
strains that the children in my Sunday- 
school class would beg for it every Sunday. 
One little fellow confided to me that he 
liked to come if they sang, 

" I think when I read that sweet story of old." 



94 Sunday Bftecnoons. 

"Why?" I asked. 

" Because I forget all my bad," was his 
reply. 

So great was the influence of these little 
verses over me as a child, that I could 
never speak the line, 

" I wish that His hand had been placed on my 
head," 

but that I cried for sheer longing that it 
might come true. 

Tone is much to a child. The message 
of a lovely lady to kindergartners will apply 
to mothers as well. " Fear for your chil- 
dren rather the moral injury from the 
harsh, vulgar, irreverent voice than from 
the evil word." Latent tendencies of wrong 
are subdued by the melody of the gentle 
note of music which goes far toward con- 
trolling passion and bringing into harmony 
the discords of the most tempestuous and 



dfcusic in tbe fbome. 95 

stubborn natures. One little girl had told 
her mother a wrong story. Every effort 
was made by the mother to influence the 
child into confessing the wrong. Desiring 
to have the child, without urging, feel her 
responsibility, the mother concluded for a 
time to let the matter rest. Seating herself 
at the piano she struck a few chords, and 
began to softly sing, 

" Abide with me, fast falls the eventide." 

The little heart opened to the influence, 
and the will was turned into the right chan- 
nel far more effectually than any reprimand, 
punishment, or insistence could have ac- 
complished. Burying her face in her 
mother's lap she said, 

" I came near running away from Him, 
Mamma." 

The Sunday-school lesson the previous 
Sabbath had been upon " The walk to 



96 Sun&aB Bfternoona. 

Emmaus." Good seed had been sown and 
the song the mother sang had not only 
roused the moral nature of the child, but 
lifted her spiritually. 

Then let me urge a little service of song 
in the home some time in the late after- 
noon of the Sabbath. Make provision for it 
and influence the children into making se- 
lections appropriate for the day. Hymns 
of good sense and noble sentiment, fine in 
form as well as devotional in spirit, will be 
an education of mind as well as of heart, and 
of good taste in music, which will be an 
influence all the later life. All educators 
urge the high quality of books placed in the 
child's hands before ten years of age, and 
further state that if this be looked to you 
need have no fear of their taste in reading 
upon reaching maturity. I am impressed 
that the same truth may be applied to de- 
votional music. 



/Ifcusic in rbe Dome, 97 

A lady visited a home one Sunday after- 
noon some few years ago in which both 
father and mother were active Christian 
workers. The young daughter of fifteen 
was asked to furnish a little music. Very 
sweetly the child complied, and going im- 
mediately to the piano entertained the vis- 
itor with several waltzes and the latest 
operas. We read in the Old Testament that 
" There is a time for everything," and St. 
Paul says: " Let 'all things be done decent- 
ly and in order," both rules so excellent that 
it is well to keep them in mind. Secular 
music is all right at the proper time; but on 
the day set apart for higher and holier as- 
sociations it is well to have music that will 
help the spirit in those directions. It may 
be quiet and thoughtful, it may be full of 
cheer and joy, according to the mood — but 
let it be " unto the Lord." 



9# SunOag Bttenioons. 

May another thought be expressed here 
to mothers ? 

In nearly every neighborhood or Sab- 
bath-school class there are some one or two 
little ones who either are motherless or have 
no home instruction. Who are so lonely 
and unhappy as they ? 

An invitation occasionally extended to 
them to join your own children would prove 
a blessing, an opportunity for influence of 
a sacred nature, and a thorough heart- 
warming for all the children. They can 
sympathize with Glory McQuirk in one of 
Mrs. Whitney's stories. " There's a good 
time, and I'm in it." 

Oh ! the motherless ones, the lonely 
heart-ache, that none may understand save 
those who have experienced that starved 
life, which nothing ever quite makes up for. 
Glance back into your own childhood and 
see if the memories of kindly words and 



flfcusic in tbe "fcome. 99 

sympathetic, tender tones are not to-day 
the richest jewels you possess. It is not the 
things we give to children, but the loving 
atmosphere about them that forms the 
quality of our future men and women. The 
possibilities wrapped within one little hour 
for a child, who can estimate ? 



Are you weary after all this ? Strong in- 
deed must be your spirit to uphold you 
through the long afternoon for the chil- 
dren's sake. No one can quite do a 
mother's work for you, and Sunday in all 
its sweet blessedness comes but once in 
seven days. I am sure your labors will be 
amply returned to you in the future blessed- 
ness of your children. The power of it will 
reach out to your children's children, and 
to all who come under their future influ- 
ence. There is no weariness in the king- 



ioo Sun&ag Btteruec;is. 

dom of heaven, which we gradually grow 
into realizing is " within " us. 

We shall only be grateful that God gave 
us the opportunity of guiding those 

" Two little feet, so small that both nestled 
In one caressing hand; 
Those tender feet upon the untried border 
Of life's mysterious land."" 

Every mother questions as she bends 
over the bedside of her sleeping children: 

" How can they walk among the briery tangles, 
Edging the world's rough ways ? 
Into what dreary mazes will they wander, 
What dangers will they meet? " 



ifoueic in tbe ibome. *°J 



MOTHER'S HYMN. 

Up to me sweet childhood looketh, 
Heart and mind and soul awake. 

Teach me of thy ways, O Father, 
For sweet childhood's sake. 

In their young hearts, soft and tender, 
Guide my hand good seed to sow, 

That its blossoming may praise Thee 
Whereso'er they go. 

Give to me a cheerful spirit, 
That my little flock may see 

It is good and pleasant service 
To be taught of Thee. 

Father, order all my footsteps. 

So direct my daily way, 
That, in following me, the children 

May not go astray. 

Let Thy holy counsel lead me; 

Let Thy light before me shine, 
That they may not stumble over 

Word or deed of mine. 



*o2 Sun&ag Bfternocns. 

Draw us hand in hand unto Thee, 
For Thy word's sake, unforgot, — 

" Let the little ones come to me 
And forbid them not." 

— From the German. 



XVI. 

Let me make a plea for the twilight time, 
the very sweetest hour of this long Sabbath 
afternoon. 

" Between the dark and the daylight, 
When night is beginning to lower, 
Comes a pause in the day's occupations, 
That is known as the children's hour." 

This is the time when we come nearest 
and closest to our little ones, in the full busy 
days that only mothers and the kind heav- 
enly Father know about. What an op- 
portunity it is for those heart-to-heart 
talks, as the children creep more closely 
around you ! How eagerly they will 

listen to the stories you tell them of 

103 



i°4 SunDag Bfternoons. 

love overcoming evil, forgiveness even 
" seventy times seven." Little confi- 
dences will be given you where cour- 
age at other times has wavered in their 
young hearts. This is the time for a sym- 
pathetic word here, a loving touch of en- 
couragement there, gentle admonishing to 
another, where in broad daylight the fault 
would appear in too glaring colors. 

How earnestly good Bishop Brooks en- 
deavored to impress upon the hearts of the 
young people who presented themselves to 
him for confirmation, that they were to tell 
the Father everything that touched their 
lives, that there was no sympathy so close, 
so tender; that the habit thus formed would 
be their citadel of strength down through 
the years. That angelic smile as he threw 
open his arms in loving invitation to all 
present, who can forget, — that mighty force 
of constraining love! 



Gvvtlfabt Galfc0. 105 

Why should we not teach the little ones 
the same helpful truth, but be very, very 
careful how we present Him ? 

I remember the story of one little child 
who had repeatedly been told by her mother 
that God did not love her when she was 
naughty. One day in telling a story the 
mother spoke of God as being ever present 
with us. The child seemed deep in thought, 
but finally went into another room. Soon 
after the mother heard her talking in a 
repressed, angry tone to the cat. Stepping 
to the door what was her amazement to 
hear the child say: 

"Oh, Pussy! do go 'way from me. I 
don't want you. Aain't it bad enough to 
have God always about, without having 
you ? " 

Imagine that mother's grief at the im- 
pression she had made, and the long task 
before her to undo the mischief, 



io6 SunOag Bftcrnoons, 

I heard about another, a little fellow who 
had been taught that God gave, without re- 
serve, everything for which we asked. So 
he was heard very earnestly praying for a 
bicycle. He was so small that his father 
felt a tricycle would be far better, and one 
night placed one in the child's room. As 
the little man's eye lighted upon the coveted 
treasure he burst into tears and sobbed: 

" Dear God, I thought you would know 
the difference ! " 

The intense disappointment of that child, 
the pain that comes from having one's faith 
shaken, was as real as our larger but often 
equally blinded reason. 

How we bless the Kindergarten, which 
brings Him to the child in all the simple 
forms of old Mother Nature, through the 
plants and flowers and birds! This ques- 
tion of teaching a child regarding answer 
to prayer can have, I think, no better solu- 



GwUtgbt name. 107 

tion than Dr. H. Clay Trumbull gives to 
mothers in his " Hints on Child Training." 
" If you tell a child that God is able and 
ready to give him everything that he prays 
for, the child is prompt to accept your state- 
ment as truth, and so he prays for a pleasant 
day when a pleasant day is desired by him. 
If the pleasant day comes accordingly, the 
child's faith in prayer is confirmed, but if 
the day be a stormy one, the child's mind is 
bewildered, and a doubt is likely to creep 
into his mind whether prayer is always so 
effective as he has been told to believe it 
to be. And the case is similar when the 
child prays for the health of one whom 
he loves, or for some gift which he longs to 
receive, or for success in some personal en- 
deavor, and the issue is not in accordance 
with his petition. 

" If, on the other hand, you plainly tell 
a child that God knows what is best for us, 



*o8 5unt>a£ Afternoon*. 

better than we know it ourselves, and that 
while God is glad to have us come to Him 
with all our wishes and all our troubles, we 
must leave it to Him to decide just what 
He will give to us and do for us, the child is 
ready to accept this statement as the truth, 
and then his faith in God is not disturbed 
in the slightest degree by finding that God 
has decided to do differently from his re- 
quest. On every side children are being 
taught to have faith in prayer rather than 
faith in God; and in consequence their faith 
is continually subject to shocks which 
would never have disturbed it if it had been 
trained to rest on God instead of resting on 
prayer." 

Dear little hearts, loving and forgiving 
always ! 

"They are such fair, frail gifts, 
Uncertain as the rifts 



Gwttigbt Galfcs. 109 

Of light that lie along the sky; 
They may not be here by and by. 
Give them not less, but more, above, 
And harder, patience with the love." 

Trust them: give them to understand 
that you know they will endeavor to do 
right, and it will be an anchor of self-re- 
sponsibility. Mothers will be surprised at 
the evidence of their teaching in most un- 
expected ways. 

A boy of twelve years was accused of a 
great wrong by a neighbor who interviewed 
his parents. The boy, sensitive, hurt, was 
so benumbed he could say nothing, and the 
flush that crept over his face implied a 
clear evidence of guilt to the father, who 
felt that punishment should be administered 
at once. But the mother felt differently, 
and the boy was dismissed to think the mat- 
ter over. Later that evening the boy was 
missing, and the mother, stepping to the 



no SunDag afternoons. 

end of the piazza, heard the sound of sob- 
bing in the bushes at the lower end of the 
garden. Closer she went, and became 
rooted to the spot on hearing this ago- 
nizing prayer : " Oh, Lord, you know I 
didn't do it, and somehow make my mother 
know it, or I shall die." 

The mother retraced her steps rather 
than seem to intrude, and shortly after sim- 
ply called his name. Bravely the boy re- 
plied: "I'm coming, mother." He was 
about retiring to his room when the mother 
said: "Don't trouble about that affair to- 
day. The Lord knows and mother knows 
that her boy would be ashamed to do so 
mean an act." The lower lip was trem- 
bling, but the face and words were steady 
as he said : " I don't care what others say, 
but I couldn't have you think wrongly of 
me." 

How patient we should be not to blame 



{TwUtgbt Galftg, 



in 



a child! How the hurt lingers, down 
through the years. To look back and know 
that one was trusted is the gleam of sun- 
shine over many a dark valley. 

We cannot follow them always, or strew 
their paths with roses, else for them life 
would lose its meaning. Each young heart 
must in time take its own place and its own 
especial work. The heights that we long 
for them to reach, in character and knowl- 
edge of the Infinite, we ourselves must 
earnestly strive to realize, and so be, per- 
haps, one step of their stair. 

" Disciplined mother, disciplined chil- 
dren," said Mrs. Prentiss, and well she 
knew of what she uttered. If you mothers 
long to know how that discipline was ob- 
tained, only read her " Life and Letters." 

Motherhood, — the inspiration and sweet- 
ness of the word! Is there any happiness 
like unto it? Or any graver responsibility? 



ii2 Sun&ag Bfternoons. 

The union, the closeness with their 
ardent young souls makes us an essential 
part of their lives. And we are standing, 
too, as messengers from the one Father to 
these children. We need to retire often, do 
we not, into the silence, into communion 
with that Highest who alone can give us 
the strength, the freedom, the peace that 
passeth understanding. 



As a part of this chapter, mothers will 
find tender suggestion and help in the poem 
that follows, in which the lovely relation 
between mothers and their children finds 
sweet expression, while the lesson of the 
harp breathes the peace and strength of the 
Father. 



tTwlUgbt ftalhg. ** 



THE MESSAGE OF AN jEOLIAN HARP. 

" Good-by, my mother! " 
The brown-haired boy, with merry reverence, 
Turned from the window where she leant, to 

meet 
His holiday companions, blithely bound 
With bat and ball for healthy English sport. 
She watched his lithesome form, so slight yet 

strong, 
Till, passing from the gate, he waved his cap 
And vanished. Then she sighed. 

Beside her sat 
A friend of years. A different portrait each 
Who knew her would have drawn, for different 

traits 
Shone out in turns as sympathetic gleams 
Fell on them or flashed out. . . . 
Not always sigh for sigh or smile for smile 
She gave: for now and then fine tact of heart 
Suggests an opposite as best response, 
Completing by contrasting, like a scarlet flower 
With soft green leaves. So with her rippling 



ii4 SunDas afternoons. 

Like waters that now murmur low, now leap 
In spray-like laughter, Beatrice replied 
To Eleanor's low sigh: 

" When he comes home, 
How full of cricket stories he will be! 
Only one needs a glossary of terms! 
How well he knows the interest with which 
You hear! I mark he intersperses all 
With rough pet names, shy veils of tenderness 
For his dear mother. Eleanor, I think 
Your Herbert has not merely head and hand, 
As all his comrades know, but true heart too, 
As you alone know fully. Well for him 
That he has such a heart to meet his own, 
And well for you; for 'tis a blessed gift, 
Not shared by all alike — the power to love"; 

" So seems it, Beatrice, to you who find 
No lurking danger in its concentration, 
Because you have so many near and dear. 
Not so to me. I tremble when I think 
How much I love him; but I turn away 
From thinking of it, just to love him more; — 
Indeed, I fear, too much." 

" Dear Eleanor, 
Do you love him so much as He loves us? 



CwfUgbt Galfcs, i ' 5 

Let your lips answer me." 

"Why ask me, dear? 
Our hearts are finite, His is infinite." 

" Then, till you reach the standard of that love, 
Let neither fears nor well-meant warning voice 
Distress you with ' too much.' For He hath said 
How much — and who shall dare to change His 

measure? 
'That ye should love as I have loved you.' 
O, sweet command, that goes so far beyond 
The mightiest impulse of the tenderest heart! 
A bare permission had been much; but He 
Who knows our yearnings and our fearfulness 
Chose graciously to bid us do the thing 
That makes our earthly happiness, and set 
A limit that we need not fear to pass 
Because we cannot. O, the breadth, and length, 
And depth, and height of love that passeth 
knowledge! 

' As I have loved you.' " 

" O Beatrice, I long to feel the sunshine 
That this should bring; but there are other 

words 
Which fall in chill eclipse. 'Tis written, ' Keep 
Yourselves from idols.' How shall I obey?" 



n6 Sun&ag Bftetnoona. 

" Dear, not by loving less, but loving more. 
It is not that we love our precious ones 
Too much, but God too little. As the lamp 
A miner bears upon his shadowed brow 
Is only dazzling in the grimy dark, 
And has no glare against the summer sky, 
So set the tiny torch of our best love 
In the great sunshine of the Love of God, 
And, though full fed and fanned, it casts no shade 
And dazzles not, o'erflowed with mightier light." 
She watched, in hope to see the pale lips curve 
More peacefully in answer to her words. 
But Eleanor's quick spirit bridged too soon 
The gap between one ridge of anxious thought 
And that beyond, to see the glen between, 
Where pastures green and waters still were 

spread. 
So, answering not her friend's thought but her 

own, 
She said, " 'Tis but half true that love is power; 
'Tis sometimes weakness." 

"Nay! You have not found 
It thus at all. See how the bold bright boy, 
Willful and wayward else, will follow prompt 
The magnet of your wish, with sudden swerve 
From his own bent or fancy." 



CwtUQbt Galfcs. "7 

"That is true, 
And O, so sweet to me! But by the power 
I gauge the weakness. Beatrice, your heart 
Has ached with longing for some stronger soul 
That it might flee from danger to the one, 
The Only Refuge: you have felt keen pain 
In calling those who will not come to Him 
Who waits to give them light: but I, I strive 
For one far more than all the world to me, — 
My boy, my only one, and fatherless, 
Just entering the labyrinth of life 
Without its only clue, with nothing but 
My feeble hand to shield from powers of ill. 

My boy, my only one! I taught him words, 
W r hen years ago his tiny feet peeped out 
From the white nightgown in the nursery hush; 
And folding firm the busy little hands, 
He lisped ' Our Father.' But words are not 

prayer. 
I put the lamp of life in his small hand, 
Filling his memory with shining truths 
And starry promises. He learnt them all 
For love of me. They are no light 
To him, no strength, no joy. O Beatrice, 
Tis this that presses on my weary heart, 



n8 SunDas afternoons. 

And makes it more than widowed. For I 

know 
That he who is not lost, but gone before, 
Is only waiting till I come; for death 
Has only parted us a little while, 
And has not severed e'en the finest strand 
In the eternal cable of our love; 
The very strain has twined it closer still, 
And added strength. The music of his life 
Is nowise stilled, but blended so with songs 
That our poor ears no longer hear it. Hubert's 

life is mute 
As yet; and what if all my tuning fail! " 
And Eleanor looked up among the clouds 
With weary, wistful eyes, while Beatrice 
Sent a far-passing glance beyond them all, 
Beyond the sunshine too. 

A sudden smile 
Rose from within and overflowed her lips 
And made them beautiful. Poor Eleanor 
Deemed it the herald of some happy thought, 
Some message, it might be, from God to her, 
Wrapped in the simple words of friend to friend. 
We do not always know it when we have 
The privilege to be God's messengers, 
Nor who shall be His messengers to us. 



Gwiltgbt Galkg, "9 

Unconsciously a pale responsive smile 
Gleamed out to welcome it, and hardly waned 
As unexpected change of subject came, 

" I did not tell you, did I, of my gift, 
My beautiful ^Eolian harp?" 

"O, no! 
I was too full of mine, my boy, and you 
Too full of ready sympathy with me." 

" Nay, do not say ' too full,' that could not be. 
Yours is so great a gift, so great a care! 
But, as we turn from gazing on the sea 
To lift admiringly a tiny shell, 
So you shall turn from your great interest 
To hear of my iEolian treasure now. 
Say, have you ever seen one? " 

" Never, dear; 
But visible, and almost audible, 
Your words shall make it." 

"There's not much to see: 
Two plain smooth boarcfs, one thick, one very 

thin, 
With seven tensioned strings upon the under, 
Just covered by the upper, and a space 
That you might lay a finger in between. 
Yet one can almost reverence the thing 
For very marvel at its spirit tones 



T20 SunfcaB Btternoons. 

And mysteries of music that we love 
But cannot* understand." 

" But tell me more, 
Dear Beatrice: what is its music like? 
Whence comes it? and what does it say to you? " 

" Tis easier to answer what and whence 
Than your third question, for not twice 
I hear the same soul-message from its strings. 
But I will tell you of the first it brought; 
Your heart will follow mine, and trace the under- 
thought. 



" A friend, a kind, dear friend, 
Gave me this harp, that should be all my own, 
That it might speak to me in twilight lone 
When other sounds were fled: that it might send 
Sweet messages of calming, cheering might, 
Sweet sudden thrills of strange and exquisite de- 
light. 

II. 

" Upon the strings I laid my hand, 
And all were tuned in unison; one tone 
Was yielded by the seven, one alone 



Gwflfgbt {Talks. 



121 



In quick obedience to my touch — command. 
It could not be that this was all he meant 
Of promised music, when my little harp was 
sent. 

III. 

" To win the tones I found the way 
In his own letter, mine before the gift: 
1 You cannot wake its music till you lift 
The closed sash. Take up and gently lay 
Your harp where it may meet the freshening air, 
Then wait and listen.' This I did, and left it there. 



IV. 



" I waited till the sun had set, 
And twilight fell upon the autumn sea; 
I watched and saw the north wind touch a tree, 
Dark outlined on the paling gold, and yet 
My harp was mute. I cried, 'Awake, O North! 
Come to my harp, and call its answering music 
forth.' 



" Like stars that tremble into light 
Out of the purple dark, a low, sweet note 



122 Sunoag afternoons. 

Just trembled out of silence, antidote 
To any doubt: for never finger might 
Produce that note, so different, so new; 
Melodious pledge that all he promised should 
come true. 



VI. 



"It seemed to die; but who could say 
Whether or when it passed the border-line 
'Twixt sound and silence? for no ear so fine 
That it can trace the subtle shades away; 
Like prism-rays prolonged beyond our ken, 
Like memories that fade, we know not how or 
when. 



VII. 

" Then delicately twining falls 
Of silvery chords that quiver with sweet pain, 
And melt in tremulous minors, mount again, 
Brightening to fullest concords, calm recalls, 
And measured pulsings, soft and sweet and slow, 
Which emphasizing touch love's quiet under- 
glow. 



VIII. 

" A silence. Then a solemn wail, 
Swelling far up among the harmonies, 
And shattering the crystal melodies 
To fleeting fragments glisteringly pale, 
Yet only to combine them all anew 
By resolutions strange, yet always sweet and 
true. 



IX. 



"Anon a thrill of all the strings; 
And then a flash of music, swift and bright, 
Like the first throb of weird Auroral light. 
Then crimson coruscations from the wings 
Of the Pole-Spirit: then ecstatic beat, 
As if an angel-host went forth on shining feet. 



X. 



" Soon passed the sounding starlit march, 
And then one swelling note grew full and long, 
While, like a far-off old cathedral song, 
Through dreamy length of echoing aisle and 

arch, 



T 24 SunfcaB afternoons. 

Float softest harmonies around, above, 
Like flowing choral robes of blessing and of 
love. 



XI. 



"Thus, while the holy stars did shine 
And listen, these ^Eolian marvels breathed; 
While love and peace and gratitude enwreathed 
With rich delight in one fair crown were mine. 
The wind that bloweth where it listeth brought 
This glory of harp music, — not my skill or 
thought." 

XII. 

She ceased. Then Eleanor looked up 

And said, " O Beatrice, I too have tried 

My finger-skill in vain. But opening now 

My window, like wise Daniel, I will set 

My little harp therein, and listening wait 

The breath of Heaven, the Spirit of our God." 



t>Etnns anfc poems for tbe Xittle 

©nes, 

THE BABY. 

Where did you come from, baby dear? 
Out of the everywhere into the here. 

Where did you get your eyes so blue? 
Out of the sky as I came through. 

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? 
Some of the starry spikes left in. 

Where did you get that little tear? 
/ found it waiting when I got here. 

What makes your forehead so smooth and high? 
A soft hand stroked it as I went by. 

What makes your cheek like a warm, white rose? 
Something better than any one knows. 

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss? 
Three angels gave me at once a kiss. 

125 



i26 Sunday Bftetnoons. 

Where did you get that pearly ear? 
God spoke, and it came out to hear. 

Where did you get those arms and hands? 
Love made itself into hooks and bands. 

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things? 
From the same box as the cherubs' wings. 

How did they all just come to be you? 
God thought about me, and so I grew. 

But how did you come to us, you dear? 
God thought about you, and so I am here. 

— George Macdonald. 



ONLY A BABY SMALL. 

Only a baby small, 

Dropped from the skies; 
Only a laughing face, 

Two sunny eyes; 
Only two cherry lips, 

One chubby nose; 
Only two little hands, 

Ten little toes; 
Only a golden head, 

Curly and soft; 
Only a tongue that wags 

Loudly and oft; 



iftgmns anD poems. 12 

Only a little brain, 

Unvexed by thought; 
Only a little heart, 

Troubled with nought; 
Only a tender flower, 

Sent us to rear; 
Only a life to love 

While we are here. 

— Matthias Baer. 



MORNING HYMN. 

Father, we thank Thee for the night, 
And for the pleasant morning light; 
For rest and food and loving care, 
And all that makes the day so fair. 

Help us to do the things we should; 
To be to others kind and good; 
In all we do, in work or play, 
To grow more loving every day. 

— Rebecca I. Weston. 



GOD'S CARE. 

In the pleasant sunny meadows, 
Where the buttercups are seen, 

And the daisies' little shadows 
Lie along the level green, 



128 SunDas Bfternoons. 

Flocks of quiet sheep are feeding, 
Little lambs are playing near, 

And the watchful shepherd leading 
Keeps them safe from harm and fear. 

Like the lambs, we little children 
Have a Shepherd kind and good; 

It is God who watches o'er us, 
Gives us life and daily food. 

— Author Unknown. 



CAREFUL GARDENER. 

Careful Gardener, Friend so dear, 
Gently to Thy flowers here 
Send the sunshine and the rain, 
Let them lift their heads again. 

Without Thy care they wilt and die, 
Let them in Thy lovelight lie; 
Then they feel no fear of harm 
Sheltered in Thy holy arm. 

Let them grow, from year to year, 
To beauty and to Thee more near, 
Till at last when the flowers are blown, 
Cull them for Thy happy home. 

— Mrs. Cushing. 



IbBmns anD fl>oems. ^9 

A PRAYER. 

God make my life a little light, 

Within the world to glow, — 
A little flame that burneth bright, 

Wherever I may go. 

God make my life a little flower 

That giveth joy to all; 
Content to bloom in native bower, 

Although the place be small. 

God make my life a little staff, 

Whereon the weak may rest; 
That so what health and strength I have 

May serve my neighbor best. 

O Father, keep Thy children, 

Do Thou our footsteps guide! 
We walk in peace and safety, 
While keeping at Thy side. 

—Mrs. B. M. Edwards. 



THE CHILD AND THE STAR. 

Little Star that shines so bright, 
Come and peep at me to-night, 
For I often watch for you 
In the pretty sky so blue. 



'3° SunDag afternoons. 

Little Star! O tell me, pray, 
Where you hide yourself all day? 
Have you got a home like me, 
And a father kind, to see? 

Little Child! at you I peep 
While you lie so fast asleep; 
But when morn begins to break, 
I my homeward journey take. 

For I've many friends on high, 
Living with me in the sky, 
And a loving Father, too, 
Who commands what I'm to do. 

— Author Unknown. 

THE NEW MOON. 

O mother, how pretty the moon looks to-night: 

It was never so cunning before. 
Her two little horns are so sharp and so bright, 

I hope she'll not grow any more. 
If I were up there with you and my friends, 

We'd rock in it nicely, you'd see; 
We'd sit in the middle, and hold by both ends. 

O, what a bright cradle 'twould be! 

We would call to the stars to keep out of the way, 
For fear we should rock on their toes, 

And then we would rock till the dawn of the day, 
And see where the pretty moon goes. 



IbBmns anfc ipoems. i 3 l 

And there we would stay in the beautiful skies, 

And through the bright clouds we would roam; 
We would see the sun set, and we'd see the sun 

rise, 
And on the next rainbow come home. 

— Mrs. Follen. 



EVENING HYMN. 

The great round sun is gone, 

The night is near, 
O heavenly Father, bless 

Thy children here. 

The silent little birds 

And folded flowers 
Are sweetly resting now, 

Till morning hours. 

And little children, too, 

May sweetly sleep, 
For God, their Father, will 

Them safely keep. 

O God, for peaceful nights 

And happy days, 
And all Thy love and care, 

We sing Thy praise. 

— Author Unknown. 



i3 2 Sun&ae afternoons. 

OUT IN THE MEADOWS.* 

Out in the meadows so fresh and so dewy, 
Out in the meadows at breaking of day, 

Op'ning their eyes at the first beam of sunlight, 
" We wish you good-morrow! " the daisies say. 

Golden and white in the morning light, 
" We wish you good-morrow! " the daisies say. 

Out in the fields in the glory of noontide, 
Out where the bees and the butterflies play, 

Through their white lids looking up into heaven, 
" We love the bright sunshine! " the daisies say. 

Golden and white in the noontide light, 
" We love the bright sunshine! " the daisies say. 

Out in the field when the bright sunlight fadeth, 
Gilding the hilltop with lingering ray, 

Closing their eyes as the day's glory dieth, 
"We wish you good-evening! " the daisies say. 

Golden and white in the evening light, 
"We wish you good-evening! " the daisies say. 

Out in the fields, in the quiet sweet starlight, 
Hushed all confusion and noise of the day, 

All fast asleep, with their golden eyes hidden, 
"We wake on the morrow! " the daisies say. 

Golden and white in the still starlight, 
"We wake on the morrow! " the daisies say. 
— Author Unknown. 



♦By permission of Oliver Ditson Company, owners of the 
crpyright. 



f>£tnns anD poems. 133 



AT EASTER TIME. 

The little flowers came through the ground, 

At Easter time, at Easter time; 
They raised their heads and looked around, 

At happy Easter time. 
And every pretty bud did say, 

" Good people, bless this holy day, 
For Christ is risen, the angels say 

At happy Easter time!" 

The pure white lily raised its cup 

At Easter time, at Easter time. 
The crocus to the sky looked up 

At happy Easter time. 
"We'll hear the song of Heaven!" they say, 

" Its glory shines on us to-day. 
Oh! may it shine on us alway 

At holy Easter time!" 

'Twas long and long and long ago, 

That Easter time, that Easter time; 
But still the pure white lilies blow 

At happy Easter time. 
And still each little flower doth say, 

" Good Christians, bless this holy day, 
For Christ is risen, the angels say 

At blessed Easter time! " 

— Laura E. Richards. 



34 SunDag Btternoons, 

THE FIRST CHRISTMAS. 

Once a little baby lay 
Cradled on the fragrant hay, 

Long ago on Christmas; 
Stranger bed a babe ne'er found, 
Wondering cattle stood around, 

Long ago on Christmas. 

By the shining vision taught, 
Shepherds for the Christ-child sought, 

Long ago on Christmas. 
Guided in a starlit way, 
Wise men came their gifts to pay, 

Long ago on Christmas. 

And to-day the whole glad earth 
Praises God for that Child's birth, 

Long ago on Christmas; 
For the Life, the Truth, the Way 
Came to bless the earth that day, 

Long ago on Christmas. 

— Emilie Poulsson. 



O, RING, GLAD BELLS ! 

The bells are ringing loud and sweet 
This happy Christmas day to greet, 
And in our hearts glad thoughts are born 
By jubilant bells of Christmas morn. 



tbgmns anfc ipoems. J 35 

For in a manger, poor and low, 
Was laid the Christ-child years ago; 
While shepherds, on the hills anear, 
Heard angel-voices loud and clear. 

O Christ-child, poor and lowly born, 
The stars sang on Thy birthday morn; 
While cradled on Thy mother's breast, 
The wise men sought Thy place of rest. 
Then peace descended on the earth, 
In welcome to Thy holy birth. 
"Peace upon earth, to men good- will!" 
To-day we children sing it still. 

O song adown the ages rolled, 

O song which never can be told, 

O Christ-child, born the world to bless, 

And show the way to happiness, 

May we, like shepherds, to Thy feet 

Bring love, the gift of all most meet, 

And worship Thee, while singing still 

Of " Peace on earth, to men good-will ! " 

A GIFT. 

Little card so dainty, 

Snowy white and fair, 
Neat must be the fingers 

Touching you with care. 
Shining little needle, 

Through the card you go, 



136 SunfcaE Btternoona. 

Drawing pretty worsted 
As we learn to sew. 

Happy are we, working, 

Thinking of the day 
When the pretty present 

We can give away. 
Little gifts are precious 

If a loving heart 
Help the busy fingers 

As they do their part. 

— Emilie Poulsson. 

MY AIN COUNTREE. 

I am far frae my hame, 

I am weary aftenwhiles 
For the langed-for hame-bringin' 

An' my Faether's welcome smiles. 
An' I'll ne'er be fu' content 

Until my e'en do see 
The gowden gates o' heaven 

In my ain countree. 

The earth is decked wi' flow'rs, 

Mony-tinted, fresh an' gay, 
An' the birdies warble blithely, 

For my Faether made them sae; 
But these sights an' these soun's 

Will as naething be to me 
When I hear the angels singin' 

In my ain countree. 



IbEmns anfc iDoems. *37 

Like a bairn to its mither, 

A wee birdie to its nest, 
I fain would be gangin' noo 

Unto my Faether's breast; 
For He gathers in His arms 

Helpless, worthless lambs like me, 
An' carries them Himsel' 

To His ain countree. 



A WONDERFUL TREE. 

There's a wonderful tree, a wonderful tree 
The happy children rejoice to see, 
Spreading its branches year by year. 
It comes from the forest to flourish here. 

O, this wonderful tree, 

With its branches wide, 
Is always blooming 

At Christmas-tide. 

'Tis not alone in the summer's sheen 
Its boughs are broad and its leaves are green: 
It blooms for us when the wild winds blow 
And earth is white with its feathery snow. 

And this wonderful tree, 

With its branches wide, 
Bears many a gift 

For Christmas-tide. 



*3 8 Sunfcas Btternoons. 

But not for us children did this tree grow, 
With its strange sweet fruit on each laden bough: 
For those we love we have made with care 
Each pretty thing you see hanging there. 

May this wonderful tree 

With its branches wide 
Bring joy to our friends 

At Christmas-tide ! 

For a voice is telling its boughs among 

Of the Shepherd's watch and the angel's song, 

Of a holy babe in the manger low, 

The beautiful story of long ago, 

When a radiant star 

Threw its beams so wide, 
To herald the blessed 

First Christmas-tide. 

Then spread thy branches, wonderful tree, 
And bring the pleasant thought to me 
Of Him who came from His home above, 
The richest gift of His Father's love. 

He came to show how 

To spread far and wide 
The joys of the holy 

Sweet Christmas-tide! 

— Mrs. M. N. Meigs. 



O LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM. 

O little town of Bethlehem, 

How still we see thee lie! 
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep 

The silent stars go by. 
Yet in thy dark streets shineth 

The everlasting Light; 
The hopes and fears of all the years 

Are met in thee to-night. 

O morning stars, together 

Proclaim the holy birth! 
And praises sing to God the King, 

And peace to men on earth. 
For Christ is born of Mary; 

And gathered all above, 
While mortals sleep, the angels keep 

Their watch of wondering love. 

How silently, how silently 

The wondrous gift is given! 
So God imparts to human hearts 

The blessing of His heaven. 
No ear may hear His coming, 

But in this world of sin 
Where meek souls will receive Him still, 

The dear Christ enters in. 

Where children pure and happy 
Pray to the blessed Child, 



i4° Sunoag afternoons. 

Where Misery cries out to Thee, 

Son of the Mother mild, 
While Charity stands watching, 

And Faith holds wide the door, 
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks, 

And Christmas comes once more. 

O holy Child of Bethlehem, 

Descend to us, we pray! 
Cast out our sin, and enter in; 

Be born in us to-day. 
We hear the Christmas angels 

The great glad tidings tell; 
O come to us, abide with us, 

Our Lord Emmanuel! 

—Phillips Brooks. 



THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. 

" Look out of the window, Dorothy dear, 

Where the wind is asleep in the snow. 
What do you see, and what do you hear? " 
" I see the stars in the sky and mere, 
And I hear the bells chime low." 

" For the birth of Christ the church bells chime, 

And the stars are the angels' eyes. 
They are out of reach however you climb, 
But they shine the brightest at Christmas-time 
To lead where the Christ-child lies." 



Ibpmns an& tpocma. >4* 

" Mother has gathered the sticks and wood 

To blaze on His birthday bright; 
If we followed the star, do you think we could 
Find Jesus, and ask Him to make us good 

And to give us a kiss for Good-night ? 

" Father has made the house-place gay 

With holly, and laurel, and yew, 
But what is the use, whatever you say, 
If He sleeps in a manger, wrapped in hay, 

And doesn't see what we do?" 



" That great gold star is the one,— it grows 

As you look, and beckons to you. 
It led the wise men, as mother knows; 
They followed and found Him — Oh, suppose, 

We followed and found Him too! 

We ought to take Him some gold and myrrh, 

And frankincense too is right — " 
"We haven't those, but my coat of fur 
Will keep him warm, and so I prefer 
To carry Him that to-night." 

' I'll take Him my prettiest toys," said May, 
"And my book with the cross and crown! 
And both my rabbits, the buff and the gray, 
And the Christmas roses we picked to-day 
Before the snow came down." 



142 Sun&aE Btternoons. 

There were two little hearts beating fast that 
night, 

Two voices that joined in prayer, 
There were four little hands that held gifts tight, 
And four blue eyes with love made bright, 

And four little feet on the stair. 

They pass through the crackling, freezing snow, 

Through the sleeping woods and lanes; 
Through the white, white silence the children go, 
And see the ruddy warm gleam and glow 
Through the cottage window panes. 

At last they came to a wee bright light, 
At the edge of the wide wild moor; 

" Oh! it must be here — Dear Star, good-night. 

We will always love you — you led us right; 
This must be the stable door." 

And Dorothy opens the door, and cries, 
"He is here — Oh! May, how sweet!" 

And, on his mother's lap there lies 

A little baby with wide gray eyes, 
And little pink curling feet. 

"Oh! where do you come from, you children 
dear, 
On Christmas night through the snow? " 
"We came by the wood and the edge of the 

mere, 
We followed the star, and it brought us here 
And showed us the way to go. 



Ibgmns anO ipoems, 143 

" We hadn't the frankincense nor the gold, 

Nor yet any myrrh to bring; 
But we have brought Him these things we hold — 
Our rabbits, our toys, and a coat for the cold, 

To wrap round your Baby King! " 

The mother spoke — and her voice was low 

And soft as the voice of a dove: 
" You dear little children, Christ loves you so 
For coming through darkness and over the snow 

To bring Him your gifts and your love. 

" But kiss my baby, and come away, 

And when you are safe at home 
Ask mother to tell you the truth, and say 
Whether you could find Christ to-day 

However far you might roam." 

She laid her baby down on his bed, 
And went with them over the moor. 

She held their hands and gently led, 

But never another word was said 
Till she left them safe at their door. 

Then May and Dorothy told their tale, 
And when their mother had heard 

How they crossed the woodj and the moor, and 
the vale, 

Alone in the snow, her dear face grew pale — 
And she kissed them without a word. 



144 Sun&as Bfternoons. 

" Oh, mother," cried May, when the tale was 
done, 

" And wasn't it true at all ? 
We looked for a manger, but there was none. 
Oh! wasn't the baby the Holy One, 

Who was born in a stable stall? " 



" 'Tis nineteen hundred years, or near, 

Since the blessed Christmas morn, 
But every day of every year 
Since then some little baby dear 
Has unto His world been born," 



Mother said, and sighed — but she sighed and 
smiled — 
" It is long since He lived among men, 
But in every little sinless child, 
By passion and wickedness undefiled 
He lives on earth again." 

— E. Nesbit. 



A CHRISTMAS MESSAGE. 

I will arise and rejoice to-day, 

In the world's glad loving and giving, 
And will sing a song in my heart alway 

For the untold richness of living. 



Dgmna an& ipoems, 145 

For the comfort of Hope and the beauty of Love, 

For the Faith that faileth us never; 
For the Peace on Earth and Good-will toward 
men, 
And the Star that shineth forever! 

— Lilian Whiting. 



CHRIST AND THE LITTLE ONES. 

" The Master has come over Jordan," 
Said Hannah, the mother, one day; 

" He is healing the people who throng Him, 
With a touch of His finger, they say. 

" And now I shall carry the children, 
Little Rachel, and Samuel, and John; 

I shall carry the baby Esther 
For the Lord to look upon." 

The father looked at her kindly, 
Then shook his head and smiled: 

" Now who but a doting mother 
Would think of a thing so wild ? 

" If the children were tortured by demons, 
Or dying of fever — 'twere well; 

Or had they the taint of the leper, 
Like many in Israel." 



H 6 Sun&ag afternoons. 

" Nay, do not hinder me, Nathan, 

I feel such a burden of care, — 
If I carry it to the Master, 

Perhaps I shall leave it there. 

" If He lay His hand on the children, 

My heart will be lighter, I know; 
For blessing for ever and ever 

Will follow them as they go." 

So over the hills of Judah, 

Along by the vine-rows green, 
With Esther asleep on her bosom, 

And Rachel her brothers between; 

'Mong the people who hung on His teaching, 
Or waited His touch and His word, 

Through the row of proud Pharisees listening, 
She pressed to the feet of the Lord. 

" Now, why shouldst thou hinder the Master," 
Said Peter, "with children like these? 

Seest not how from morning till evening 
He teacheth, and healeth disease? " 

Then Christ said, "Forbid not the children; 

Permit them to come unto Me! " 
And He took in His arms little Esther, 

And Rachel He sat on His knee. 



Ibgmns anD poems. 1 47 

And the heavy heart of the mother 

Was lifted all earth-care above, 
As He laid His hands on the brothers 

And blest them with tenderest love; 

As He said of the babes in His bosom, 
" Of such is the kingdom of heaven." 

And strength for all duty and trial 
That hour to her spirit was given. 



For Young Girls. 

XTbe /IDoonligbt Sonata* 

INTRODUCTION. 

The ills we see, — 
The mysteries of sorrow deep and long, 
The dark enigmas of permitted wrong, — 

Have all one key: 
This strange sad world is but our Father's 

school; 
All chance and change His love shall grandly 
overrule. 

How sweet to know 
The trials which we cannot comprehend 
Have each their own divinely-purposed end! 

He traineth so 
For higher learning, ever onward reaching, 
For fuller knowledge yet, and His own deeper 
teaching. 

He traineth thus 
That we may teach the lessons we are taught; 
That younger learners may be further brought, 

Led on by us; 

148 



Ibgmne ano poems. 149 

Well may we wait, or toil, or suffer long, 
For His dear service* so to be made fit and 
strong. 

He traineth so 
That we may shine for Him in this dark world. 
And bear His standard dauntlessly unfurled; 

That we may show 
His praise, by lives that mirror back His love. 
His witnesses on earth, as He is ours above. 

Nor only here 
The rich result of all our God doth teach 
His scholars, slow at best, until we reach 

A nobler sphere; 
Then, not till then, our training is complete, 
And the true life begins for which He made us 
meet. 

Are children trained 
Only that they may reach some higher class? 
Only for some few school-room years that pass 

Till growth is gained? 
Is it not rather for the years beyond 
To which 'the Father looks with hopes so fair 
and fond? 

What though to-day 
Thou canst not trace at all the hidden reason 
For His strange dealings through the trial- 
season? 



i5° Sunday Bfternoons. 

Trust and obey: 
And, like the child whose story we give here, 
In after life and light, all shall be plain and clear. 



ALICE'S STORY. 

The firelight softly glanced upon 
Dark braids and sunny curls, 
Where, in a many-windowed room, 
Yet dim with late November gloom, 
Were busy groups of girls. 

Some sat apart to learn alone; 

Some studied side by side; 
Some gathered round a master's chair 
In reverent silence; others there 

For readiest answer tried. 

For one young name a summons came, 

Ard Alice quickly rose; 
The rapid pen aside is laid; 
The call once heard must be obeyed 

At once, as well she knows. 

Yet with no joyous step or smile 

She hastens now away 
A teacher's earnest look to meet, 
Whose hand is filled with music sweet 

As hers shall be one day. 



fbymne and ipoems. 15 

Beside her at the instrument 

A place her teacher takes, 
With patient eye, yet keenest ear; 
And Alice knows that he will hear 

The slightest fault she makes. 

Oh, such a music-task as this 

Was never hers before! 
So long and hard, so strange and stern, — 
A piece she thinks she cannot learn, 

Though practised o'er and o'er. 

It is not beautiful to her, — 

She cannot grasp the whole; 
The master's thought was great and deep — 
A mighty storm to seize and sweep 

The wind-harp of the soul. 

She only plays it note by note, 

With undeveloped heart; 
She does not glimpse the splendor through 
Each chord, so difficult and new, 

Of veiled and varied art. 

Unwonted beat and weird repeat 

She cannot understand; 
She stumbles on with clouded brow, — 
Her cheek is flushed, and aching now 

The weary little hand. 



15 2 SunDag Btternoons. 

She looked up in her teacher's face; 

Tears were not far away: 
"Must I go on till it is done? 
Oh, let me change it, sir, for one 

That I can better play. 

" I cannot make it beautiful, — 

It has no tune to sing; 
And when I am at home, I fear 
My friends will never care to hear 

This long and dreary thing." 

He said, " If you might freely choose, 

My child, what would you learn?" 
" Oh, I would have the ' Shower of Pearls/ 
Or ' Soldiers' March,' like other girls, 
And quick approval earn; 

" Or sweet Italian melodies, 

With brilliant run and shake; 
If you would only give me such, 
I think that I could please you much,— 

Such progress I should make." 

" Learn this, and it will please me more," 

Said he, with kindest voice; 
" And though 'tis now so hard to play, 
Trust me, you will be glad some day 

That I have ruled your choice." 



•flbEmns anfc jpoemg. 153 

Tears trembled on the lash, and now 

His face she could not see; 
Once more she pleaded, as they fell, 
" But I shall never play it well; 

It is too hard for me! " 



"One thing I grant," he said: "that you 

May fully, freely tell 
Your father, who is kind and wise; 
And, Alice, what he shall advise, 

Say, will it not be well?" 

Again she came, and stumblingly 

The hard sonata played; 
Another week has passed away, 
With toilsome practice every day, 

Yet small the progress made. 

Her father's writing, bold and clear, 

Lay on the instrument: 
" Your letter safely came to me, 
And now shall answer lovingly 

To my dear child be sent. 

"The hardest gained is best retained; 

You learn not for to-day; 
I cannot grant your fond request; 
Your teacher certainly knows best,— 

So trust him and obey." 



i54 SuttfcaE Bfternoone. 

The teacher spoke; she listened well, 

No word of his to miss: 
" Alice, I want to make of you 
An artist, noble, high, and true; 
And no light thing is this. 

" There's happier, better work in store 

Than merry tunes to play; 
You have a mission to fulfil, — 
You do not know it; but I will 

Prepare you as I may. 

"Will you believe that I know best, 

And persevere, my child? " 
She answered, with a little sigh, 
" Yes; I will trust, and I will try;" 

And then her teacher smiled. 

PART II. 

Long has the school been left behind, 

For years have passed away; 
We find her now where evening light 
Fades not into the darksome night, 
t But melts into the day. 

There, in an arched and lofty room, 

She stands, in fair white dress; 
Where grace and color and sweet sound 
Combine and cluster all around 
And rarest taste express. 



Ibemns anD poems. 155 

'Tis Alice still, but woman grown 

In hand and head and heart; 
And those who now around her throng 
Are skilled in music and in song, 

In learning and in art. 

It was an evening of delight 

To be remembered long, 
With many a reach of vivid thought, 
And many a vision artist-wrought, 
And — crown of all that friendship brought — 

The eloquence of song. 

Now, Alice; now the time is come! 

Sweet music you have poured; 
But, in this gentle twilight-fall, 
Give now the very best of all 

That in your heart is stored. 

" Give now the master's masterpiece; 

All silent we will be, 
And you shall stir our inmost souls, 
While, like a fiery river, rolls 

Beethoven's harmony. 

An instrument was by her side, — 

A new and glad possession, 
Whose perfect answering conveyed 
Each delicate and subtle shade 

Of varying expression. 



i5 6 Sun&ag afternoons. 

She needed no reminding score, 

For memory was true; 
And what is learnt in childish years 
Deep graven on the mind appears 

Our life's whole journey through. 

And so she only had to let 

The long-known music flow 
From happy heart and steady hand, 
As with a magic flame-command; 
Enkindling in the listening band 

A full responsive glow. 

Through shade more beautiful than light, 
Through hush of softest word, 

Through calm and silence, still and deep 

As angel-love or seraph-sleep, 
The opening notes were heard. 

THE SONATA. 

Soft and slow, 
Ever the gentle underflow, 

Soft and slow, 
Murmuring peacefully on below, 
A twilight song; while the shadows sleep 

Dusk and deep, 
Over the fountain, under the fern, 

Solemn and still; 
Waiting for moonlight over the hill 
To touch the bend of the lulling burn. 



IbEmng ano poems. 157 

Under the wild and grim rock-wall 
A twilight song, a song of love, 
Softer than nightingale, sweeter than dove; 
Loving and longing, loving and yearning 
With a hidden flow of electric burning 
Ever returning; 



While ever the gentle underflow 

Murmurs lovingly on below, 

In notes that seem to come from far,— 

From the setting star 

In the paling west, 
Faint and more faint, 
Like the parting hymn of a dying saint 

Sinking to rest. 



A moment of deep hush; then wakes a-gain ; 
With sudden sparkle of delight, 
A new and joyous strain. 



Awake ! awake ! 

For twilight now 
That veiled the lake 

Where dark woods bow, 
In moonlight resplendent 

Is passing away; 
For brightness ascendant 

Turns night into day. 



J 58 Sun&aB afternoons. 

Oh, listen! yet listen! 
The moonlight song 
Where still waters glisten 
Is floating along: 
A melodious ripple of silver sound, 
In golden rhythm of light bars-bound, 
Linked with the loveliness all around 
A song of hope, 

That soars beyond 
The farthest scope 
Of a vision fond; 

While the loveliest silence of solemn night, 

And the depth of shadow beneath our feet, 

Only make the song more sweet, — 

Only make the sacred light 

Yet more tender, yet more bright; 

And song and radiance both entwining 

In radiant singing, and musical shining, 

Float on and on 

Till the night is gone, 

Ever for rest 

Far too blest. 

Then wake, then wake 
From slumberous leisure! 

Arise and take 

Thy truest pleasure! 
A life is before thee which cannot decay; 
A glimpse and an echo are given to-day 
Of glory and music not far away. 
Take the bliss that is offered thee; 



Ibgmns ano poems. 159 

Hope on, hope ever, and thou shalt be 
Blest for aye! 



Once more a pause is made; 
While deeper yet the silence, — deeper yet the 
shade. 

Now in awful tempest swelling, 
Fallen hosts anew rebelling, 
Battle shout and lava torrent 
Mingle in a strife abhorrent. 



Tis a song — a battle-song, 

And a shout of victory, 
Darting through the conflict strong 

Terror to the enemy. 
Rising, while the moon is settting 

That beheld the struggle sore, 
Rising still, while not forgetting 

That the battle is not o'er; 
Rising, while the day is breaking 
O'er the hills, serene and strong. 

Yea, a mighty song, 
Of joy and triumph strong; 
Magnificent in madness, 
And glorious in gladness, 

Calling, calling; shall it be 

To noble failure and heroic death? 



160 SunDag Bftemoons. 

Lifted with a parting breath 
Is the shout of victory- 
Failing fast? 

No! 
Tis not so! 
For light and life 
End the war and crown the strife. 



She ended. For a little space 

The music still seemed swelling 
As it were too sweet and rare 
Like common sound to leave the air 
As a deserted dwelling. 

Then through the flow of loving thanks 

And murmuring delight, 
And marvel at the master's art, 
One rich approval reached her heart 

More than all else that night. 

One who had also freely brought 

His own high gift of song 
Drew near and spoke: "For many a year 
That marvelous work has been most dear,- 

Known, loved, and studied long. 

" I own, like you, allegiance true, 
And deemed my insight clear; 



fbBmns an& ipoems. 161 

But never guessed until to-night 
The depths of meaning and the might 
Of what you rendered here. 

"The master has been much to me; 
But more than ever now I see 

That none there is above him. 
You have been his interpreter; 
To you it has been given to stir 

The souls of all who love him." 

Then swift upflashed a memory, — 

A long-forgotten day; 
A memory of tears once shed, 
Of aching hand and puzzled head, 
And of the father's word that said, 

" Trust and obey" 

The lesson learnt in patience then 

Was lit by love and duty; 
The toiling time was quickly past, 
The trusting time had fleeted fast, 
And Alice understood at last 

Its mysteries of beauty. 

O glad, perpetual harvest-time 

After the sowing days! 
For all her life rich joy of sound, 
And deep delight to loved ones round, 

And to the master, — praise! 



1 62 SunDag Bfternoons. 

Ye read her story. 
Take home the lesson with a spirit smile: 
Darkness and mystery a little while, 

Then — light and glory, 
And ministry 'mid saint and seraph band, 
And service of high praise in the eternal land. 
— Frances Ridley Havergal. 



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